River of Time
by Mechtadyne
Summary: Like a river, time continues to flow. Even years after the fact, the backlash of his father's death still haunts Chrom and his country in more ways than one. While scouting the countryside in an attempt to maintain the peace, he finds a woman with no name among his fields. A complete novelisation of Fire Emblem: Awakening. Full summary within.
1. Premonition

**Full Summary**

Like a river, time continues to flow. Even years after the fact, the backlash of his father's death still haunts Chrom and his country in more ways than one. While scouting the countryside in an attempt to maintain the peace, he finds a woman with no name among his fields. While at first it seems as though they are just victims of another war, Chrom and his Shepherds soon discover that there is more to be seen in the apparent pages of Ylisse's would-be future; to both those that remain unwritten, and strangely too, those which have already been wrought about. _A complete novelisation of Fire Emblem: Awakening_.

* * *

**Premonition**

_Invisible Threads_

He wasn't a stranger, but nor was his face clear or movements quite real to my eyes. I felt as though I knew him – this man of blue – yet my eyes deceived me and I couldn't tell from the indistinguishable blurs and outlines before me whether he was quite what I believed him to be. I looked around – scanning my surroundings – yet such a scan seemed impossible when all that lay before me was a fog of mystery and blurs that seemed almost dreamlike, clouding my vision with unknown figures. I wondered for just a moment if any of this was real at all, as while the sounds of cracking and the cool feel of air around me felt real as my own thoughts, my eyes deceived me.

"Are you ready?" a cool voice from the blurred and blue figure drew my attention to his outline, and all doubt cleared. With an aura of utmost familiarity, it felt as though I could spend a lifetime wondering about the possibilities of his allegiances yet still come to the same conclusion – that he was a friend.

We walked together in the near darkness of the tower, thunder roaring outside the walls of our claustrophobic staircase in ways that sunk my stomach into a twisting pit of nerves. As we ascended though, he was ever at my side, a warm but lightless torch that guided my path step by step until the stairs became flat, the darkness became a dimmed light, and the thunder became the beckoning and roaring of an uneasy laughter.

"There." my ally said simply, still wisps of blurs that had now drawn the distinct shape of a sword from his palm. I stared keenly at the blurs of the laughing man, whose aura of unease and wispy smokes of an outline struck more fear into my mind that his figure struck a shape.

"You're one of us, don't let anyone tell you otherwise," my friend had said softly under the roar of laughter and thunder, "No destiny can change the ties we've made."

The sounds grew louder and a crack of magic and lighting split the territory between us and our would-be assailant, but we moved on, regardless of the gut-wrenching churns that split my body, and together assaulted the laughing man with what I realized soon after was a tome I had held the whole time, and a sword that I never knew was even there.

Our screams merged with his laughter and the crack of swords and screeches split across the room in agonizing volume. I hadn't thought that my mind could become any more perplexed and my vision could fog any more than it had, but expectations were made and shattered within the moment. I saw nothing but lightning and swords, metals and magic, fuchsia and black among the sounds of what seemed like dozens upon dozens of men and monsters, and the feeling of cold and whatever darkness could do that emptied your very soul.

But the lightning and the cracking faded as soon as it had begun, and all that was left was a dead man among of the rubble of battle. He squirmed and coughed, but faltered all the same, and a ghost of his laughter gave warning before he drained of all life.

"This isn't over...you cannot unwrite that which has already been written!"

He fell then, a fading shadow of his former self, still blurred to my own eyes but his aura struck clear dread into my heart. From the ashes of his fading body though came his attack; a swan song meant to sing its last notes. Without a thought, I lunged for the ball of wisps and magic that hurtled across the vastness of the room; from one dying man to what he hoped would be another. I felt it then, a surge of blood and red, something that defied all senses and made my movements numb with an invisible weight.

"Are you alright?" my blurred and blue friend had asked, his voice stricken with worry yet a hint of disapproval. I stared bleakly at him, trying to find reason within my near sacrificial actions, but nodded nonetheless.

"That's the end of him...Thanks to you, we carried the day." I could hear the smile in his voice.

Another surge of pain encrusted my body, shooting from limb to limb and blotting my vision with stricken veins of red. I fell then, first a falter from the lack of air in my lungs, but then a fall to my knees as my comrade reached out to me.

"What's wrong? Did he cut you?" He held me for a second of a moment, steadying me with red and fogged arms which felt slick like blood yet strong like stone. Another pulsation of pain shot through my very core, and I gasped. I reached for his arm as red veins and black tendrils gripped my mind. I could feel something - an egging force that emptied my will and replaced what it had found with a keen sense of despair - overtake what little control I had left. And yet this was when my mind became null. Emptied of confusion, I saw that fog had cleared and blurs had focused, and what once was blue and red and yellow had now became blue hair, red cuts, and yellow blades.

"Hey...hey! Wait, hang on-"

Another blur of movement, too fast for my ache and vein stricken mind to comprehend, and I saw with clarity a man with blue eyes that matched his short, blood and mud matted hair. A golden sword fell from his hands, stained with brown and red, and clattered dully with a strong glow. Silver armour was strapped tightly around his chest and shoulders, but what little protection they had provided mattered no longer, as he staggered away from me, gripping his chest in what ways he could around the amber, lightning like dagger that protruded from a bloodied wound. I was standing now and reached for him, but he was already too far, and my palms tingled and twitched with an electric pulse that illuminated from a mauve marking I had only just seen.

The man of blue coughed once, staggering towards me. He looked at me then, but I saw nothing but calm and understanding. He coughed again, and I saw blood. "This...is not your fault...please promise-" he said softly before spitting out more blood and coughs as he came even closer still, "Promise me...that you will escape from this place...please, go now..." He stepped again, closer, within arms reach, and softly I felt gloved fingers against my jaw and cool wisps streaming across my cheeks.

"This isn't...your fault...Azrynne..."

And with that, he fell. I saw blue eyes flicker from a glowing warmth to emptiness within a moment. His golden sword faded then, losing its soft lustred glow from before. He was a ghost of his former self, nothing more than a corpse now. I wanted to reach for him, to feel his skin, but I knew before I even touched him that he would be cold already, dead from inside and out, gone in all ways of the word.

Laughter cracked across my mind once more, and red tendrils and black pains shot through every core of my being. I wanted to cry just a moment before, but now I felt nothing. I felt my mind becoming clearer, too clear, and clarity soon became emptiness. I felt the world darken at my feet and a cold shadow looming across my body. Everything became cold, everything became numb, and before I knew it, everything became black.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This is a complete novelisation of Fire Emblem: Awakening with my own unique twists and turns in terms of plot, pairings and dialogue. The approach I am taking while writing this is that _anyone _can read this story and understand the plot of the game without having to play it beforehand. While for the main part this story will follow the game's storyline quite well, there are many things in the game that I find implausible in an actual war campaign. With _River of Time_, I intend to flesh out not only Chrom, the Avatar, and the Shepherds, but also the political background of the war, the finer details of the story, and also add in my own plotlines. _River of Time _will also expand upon supports between units, so there will be many a conversation between _many_ a character. You can also expect a lot of unrequited _and _requited love flowing about the course of the story.

Rating is T as there may be some graphic violence descriptions with the war and whatnot, and also for all the romance. The story is written predominately in third person, switching between characters by chapter. Very few chapters are written in first person.

Finally, the romantic subplot covers almost every character as, like I said, there will be many established pairings. I am unsure if I will include what the main pairings consist of so I'll leave that up to reader discretion if I can manage to get myself some reviews and opinions (check this space if I do include major pairings).

With that, I hope you enjoy reading _River of Time_ as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	2. The Verge of History

**The Verge of History**

_Chrom Ylisse_

Chrom loved the sound of water. The trickling tides of the forest river eased his heart and cleared his mind from the fog of battles, politics and command. He dismounted his horse and calmed her, then eagerly stepped towards the flow of the river before him. The fresh smell of air, grass and water filled his nose with a type of beauty and grace that only nature's perfumes could ever create. While he was never as at home as he was with a sword by his side and with soldiers eagerly awaiting his commands, he could do for a long awaited break from his position as the Shepherd's captain. His command, he could relinquish (at least for the moment), though try as he might to escape its grasp, the responsibilities of princehood were eagerly biting at his heels.

"Milord! Please, don't stray too far. The river is strong today." A strong voice cautioned him. Chrom sighed, his peace broken. He turned to his sturdy guard, ever at his and his sisters' sides.

Frederick was a handsome man. It was what most people would notice at first glance upon him. His dark brown hair was neatly trimmed and tidied, not a strand covering his sight or agitating his features. He had a strong jaw and a firm look to his face, with sharp features that accentuated the authority of his figure. Upon his steed, Frederick looked a hero among men; the knight in shining armour that all village maidens swooned and dreamed of from their youths to well into their adulthood. His armour was large and burly, yet he wore it with a kind of pride and posture that made it look like nothing more than the lightest of fabrics - barely a burden in any way, shape, or form. Yet despite the sharp appearance, the burly armour, and the strong and firm voice, the feature which encapsulated his very character the most was, in fact, his eyes; a soft chocolate brown that seemed to burn when he was mad, but melt in the presence of his loved ones.

"Do I look like a maiden to you, Frederick?" Chrom teased, "Oh please, Frederick, save me from the tides! How could I be so careless?"

Frederick rolled his eyes and huffed at his lord, ignoring his jest. From behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, a loud giggle from a young girl echoed across the field.

"Oh Frederick!" Lissa teased as well, jumping off behind him, "Save me as well! Look! I've fallen!"

Lissa ran towards Chrom, a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes accenting the smile on her face. Her curled, blonde hair, fastened high on her head in two twin pig tails, twirled and flew behind her as she span and fell to the ground. Her giggle warmed Chrom's heart and brought a smile to his face. Lissa was always able to calm Chrom. He loved her dearly, from the day she was born, a small, pink, crying bundle of joy that didn't stop crying for what he thought was at least two weeks, to now, a mischievous and loud 18 year old girl that bustled among her people, forgetting etiquette lessons in favour of shopping for valueless pendants in street side market stalls.

Lissa clutched her chest with one hand, scrunching the now dirtied white and yellow fabric of her dress, and with her hand, shielded her eyes from the sunlight.

"Frederick!" She cried, "Don't worry anymore. I'm a loss cause! Please, save Princess Chrom and leave me behind!"

Chrom chuckled tapped his sister's forehead jokingly.

"I'm a princess now?" he said, "Why, I was just a village maiden yesterday, and the castle cook the day before! What a promotion for me."

Frederick, who had hardly moved from his mount, frowned at the two. He shook his head and turned his stallion away from them.

"How is it that you still act the children you were ten years ago?" With that, he strode off, not quite too far to lose the siblings from his sight, but far enough that he might continue his patrol of countryside border.

From the ground, Lissa pouted and shouted behind him, "And how is it that you're still as _grumpy_ as you were ten years ago!"

Chrom laughed again, smiling at his sister and their knightly guardian. He turned back to his horse and mounted her again, directing her to Lissa's side. Grumpily, she jumped up and dusted away the mud and dirt from her dress, then clumsily mounted Chrom's horse behind him. The siblings continued their stroll - which he had convinced Frederick to let them on under the guise of a border patrol - following the river and taking in the scenery of his country's natural wonders.

"It's nice to get out of the castle," Lissa said, hugging her brother, "I wish I could do it as often as you..."

"Well, you could, you know. You _are_ a princess." he said.

"Bah! What's a princess when you've got Frederick around? You'd think he'd let me do whatever I'd want now...but no. _'Lady Lissa! It's too dangerous to go. Lady Lissa! The bandits would only target you! Lady Lissa! You're not wearing the right shoes! What if you tread on mud out there?_'"

Chrom laughed again at his sister's impression (which was, he admitted, surprisingly accurate) and thanked his lucky stars that Frederick was nowhere near as protective towards him as he was to his sisters. While at first he protested when Chrom decided to join the Ylisse's army, he soon conceded to Chrom's unbreakable will, accepting that no one would lead the Shepherds better than the prince himself.

The knight, who had rode no further than a few yards away from them, returned to their side now, still grumpy and not at all talkative but still within reach, if 'brigands ever targeted your Graces'', or at least so he said. Chrom ignored his fussing and grumps though, instead taking favour to Ylisse's countryside. They followed the river's flow, it's trickling guiding their path as they abandoned their so-called 'patrol' and truly began to savour the warmth of the sun, the smells of Ylisse's fields, and the sounds of nature, unfiltered by the clicks and chatters of a market or town.

"You know what Frederick? I like this. I like going out with the Shepherds. I'm making a decision now! From here on out, you have to let me go whenever I want." Lissa said with a smug smile.

"Now milady, you know I cannot allow harm to..." Frederick started, only to be interrupted by Lissa's soft and high voice.

"It won't! Because I'll have Chrom by my side and everyone else too! Stahl would never let anything touch me, and Sully would just beat everyone up before they even saw me! Then there's Maribelle, no one would even _dare_ to-"

Before Lissa could continue though, Frederick abruptly turned his horse towards Chrom's and rode not even a yard before him, stopping both horses in their tracks. Chrom pulled strongly on his mare's reins to steady her, and Lissa gripped tightly to her brother to avoid a fall. Frederick's face was hard, his brows furrowed and his once exasperated frown now replaced with a grim one.

"Frederick. What is it?" Chrom asked, reaching for his blade. Lissa fell silent and held her brother tightly with one hand, then reached for her staff strapped tightly to the mare's saddle.

For a moment, Frederick was silent, and the only reply Chrom got was the cascading stream that rushed in the river beside them. Frederick reached for his own blade and moved his horse from in front of Chrom's mare, clearing their path.

"Over there. Blood." he said calmly.

And indeed, when Chrom squinted his eyes and looked carefully at the tall grass at the river's bank not ten yards ahead, he could see the distinct red and brown stains of dried blood.

The trio exchanged glances before slowly approaching the browned patch of grass. There was only one explanation that Chrom could think of - bandits. He felt his hair stand on end as they slowly approached a now dangerous and unknown threat. Gusts of wind swayed the grass ever so slightly to the side, making for an eerily calm yet dreading feeling of forebode. Chrom felt the river stream replaced with his heartbeat as they approached the reed and grass covered bank, only to feel a drain of dread when he saw that the red in fact continued on downstream the river.

They stopped just shy of the bloodied bank and dismounted, examining the newly made corpse that bled into one of Ylisse's river veins. To his relief, Chrom saw not the corpse of a man or woman, but that of a mare, its chest cut open with burn marks encrusting her skin - though in hindsight he would often come to wonder whether that struck more dread in him than the simple sight of a dead man.

Chrom heard his sister gag behind him, and the smell of blood and charred skin made his stomach churn and his nose scrunch with disgust. The wounds were old, with the lightning charred skin no longer burning and the open wound spilling not nearly enough blood indicative of a beast as large as a horse. Upon examination though, Chrom noticed bloodstain not only the rocks, reeds and ground around them, but also a trail that spilt onto the grass and further into the fields, away from the river. His stomach felt heavy. Perhaps if they followed, they would find the mare's owner - or otherwise, her killer.

Frederick was already ahead of them, his keen eye noticing the trail long before they had even come close enough to the corpse for either Chrom or Lissa to recognise its shape. Weapons drawn and huddled together, they remounted their horses and followed the red stained grass. The trail lead quite a ways away from the river, however the splotches of blood on grass and the way they pooled together and smeared told Chrom that whoever had ran from that horse had made the trail with their own cuts.

Who did this? Brigands? Chrom crossed the former thought from his mind - it was rare that bandits knew magic, and he could tell from the clean cut and the burn marks that this was done by no outlandish hooligan who could barely grasp their swords the right way. A grim feeling fell to the pit of his stomach. It couldn't be..._them_, could it? Had they done it now? Had they invaded? Was this their warning before war broke loose?

Whatever Chrom was expecting at the end of the trail though, the last thing on his mind was the figure of a woman - and yet, fate have him, that is precisely what the trio found.

Collapsed in the field, she was surrounded by grass and flowers. Her breathing was shallow, but it was there, he could see it, and her eyes shut peacefully in a way that if the blood were replaced with pillows and fabrics, you'd think her asleep amidst the fields on a warm summer's day. Her hair was long, a crisp, burnt-auburn colour that reminded him of autumn leaves, and her features consisted of sharp, arched eyebrows, round but high cheekbones, and a softly curved jaw. The rest of her though, he couldn't see, as acting as her summer sheets was a long, black coat trimmed with gold and lined with a dark mauve pattern. There was one thing he could tell though - her water soaked state came not only from the riverbed, but also from her own blood.

Without a word or moment's hesitation, Lissa leapt from the horse and ran to the woman. Frederick yelled, demanding she hold, but her stubborn nature continued onwards and she approached the woman at staggering speeds. Not knowing what had overcome him, Chrom rushed after her, leaving Frederick with nary a choice but to follow.

"Lissa! Stop this now!" Frederick yelled. His voice now took a tone of command that even Chrom would fear to disobey. She continued though and kneeled at the woman's side, pulling her cloak aside and pushing her bloodstained shirt up to reveal a bloodied wound. Chrom, now beside her, dismounted and stared, not too sure what to do.

"Chrom, get me the vulnerary paste from my satchel, please." his sister asked as she examined the wound. It was not too deep, and from her breathing it was obvious that she was still alive. Chrom nodded simply and obeyed his sister, letting her smooth the gel across the edges of the open cut as she muttered her old clerical words of magic. Frederick, still atop his mount, gripped his sword tightly, scanning the surrounding fields with a stern grimace.

Lissa held her staff high, and with a soft muttering, her enchantment worked its way across the wound. Slowly, dried blood peeled, skin pulled forward, and an invisible, slow-working stitch etched its way across the gape, ever so slowly closing it. Within minutes, the wound was gone, and no matter how hard he examined, if it weren't for him seeing the wound with his own very eyes, Chrom would had thought her skin was never touched at all.

"Are we done yet, Lissa?" Frederick said with disdain.

"Frederick! She could have died! Don't you dare get snarky with me." Lissa snapped.

And Frederick snapped right back, "No, milady. Don't _you_ dare get snarky with _me_. What were you thinking? Running from us so carelessly? This could have been a trap. Brigands. Plegians. Anyone could have grabbed you, and killed you on the spot."

"There is a dying woman on a field! Why would you even think that?" Lissa yelled.

"You think brigands to be a fool? Don't you realize how dirty they play? What if this woman was one of them? A trap, and you fell for it. Running off to help the innocent when in reality, she may be a viper, ready to bite the moment you draw too close."

"Stop it! I did the right thing! If that cut had been left any-" Lissa started.

"Enough!" Chrom yelled with a voice of authority he had briefly forgotten he had, "No more! Be silent now, both of you, arguing will bring us anywhere. Lissa, you've no idea how dangerous it is to run off like that. We could have approached together. And Frederick the Wary, enough of your tone. I know you care deeply for our safety, but I won't have this bickering needlessly continue when no threats have come to light."

Lissa frowned and looked away, annoyed from her scolding but still understanding their words. Frederick simply nodded curtly, and uttered a short and clear 'Yes, milord. My apologies.'

Chrom closed his eyes, took a few calming breaths, and turned his attention to the mysterious 'viper' Frederick was so wary of. He walked to his sister's side and examined the woman closely, but was unable to pin any nationality to her features.

"Do you think she's from the village?" Lissa asked.

"I don't know...perhaps she is. Or perhaps she is a traveller who ran into misfortune." Chrom replied. Frederick dismounted his steed and approached them.

"Look at her cloak," Frederick said calmly, "Those colours. Mauve and gold against black. Those are the Plegian colours."

"I know what you're thinking, Frederick," Chrom started, "but who are we to pass that judgment? Sumia wears mauve and gold too, on occassion, would you accuse her of Plegian allegiances also?"

"Never, milord. Just keep the fact in mind. We know nothing of this woman." Frederick replied.

"So, what do we do then?" Lissa asked, "What if she's Ylissean, Chrom?"

"What do you propose? You're the cleric. What would be safest for her?" Chrom replied.

"Well, we obviously can't just leave her here..." Lissa said, "We should probably take her back to Southtown?"

Chrom heard a murmur, and while the siblings smiled at their fortune, Frederick had stiffened. The siblings looked down to see that their viper had awoken, a soft groan escaping her lips as she blinked the sleep away from what Chrom now saw were golden eyes. He could see her pupils focusing, trying to make out his blurred and blue shape.

"That's a very strange place to sleep, you know," Chrom heard himself saying, easing the atmosphere, "I'm sure there are better places to take a nap. Take my hand."

He extended, and she reached for him. He pulled her up slowly and Lissa steadied her, and Chrom found that she was quite tall in fact, just an inch below his own height.

"Thank you...Chrom." The woman said. Her voice was low and soothing.

"Ah, so you know me then." Chrom said. So she was indeed Ylissean.

"Yes, I..." the woman started, but then stopped slowly. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, Chrom thought she would fall. But instead, she shook her head and furrowed her brows.

"No. No, I'm sorry. I don't think I do know you...but your name, it just...came to me, I suppose." She said slowly, as if she was hearing her voice for the first time. Perhaps she wasn't Ylissean then, but this only raised more questions than it answered. He pushed on though.

"I see...well, if you know my name, then might I ask for yours?"

Again, she closed her eyes and bit her lip, as if in thought. Finally, she said, "I don't...no, I'm sorry. I don't know."

"You don't know your own name?" Lissa gasped, wide-eyed, "Come on, everyone has one, right? Mine is Lissa!"

"I'm sorry, but..." Again, she paused, and continued after a moment, looking around, "...where are we?"

Chrom was silent. He exchanged glances with Lissa, then Frederick, both with clearly different expressions and thoughts - one of worry, and one of apprehension.

"We're in Ylisse," Chrom said calmly, "just east of Southtown. Where are you from? The Farfort?"

The woman looked blankly at Chrom, and he had his answer before she even spoke.

"She has amnesia," Lissa said, "maybe it happened when she fell from her horse? Do you remember being on a horse, by a river? Do you remember being attacked?"

The woman shook her head, and Frederick scoffed.

"Enough of this folly. This isn't amnesia. You wish for us to believe that you know milord's name but not your own?" Frederick said.

"I…well, I would be cautious too, and I understand your concern, but..." she started, worry in her voice, "It's the truth, though."

"Enough, Frederick the Wary. What if it is the truth?" Chrom said. He turned his attention back to the woman, "Do you know of Ylisse?"

She shook her head.

"Right now, we're in the halidom of Ylisse, a grand country ruled by the Exalt Emmeryn. Right now we're east of a village called Southtown. We'll bring you there now, perhaps someone will recognise you. If not, we can figure out where to go next from there."

The woman nodded curtly, "Thank you. I'm sorry, but everything feels so...foreign. I don't know why."

"It's okay," Lissa said, "you were cut up pretty bad...I wouldn't be surprised if this was just shock even."

"I see..." the woman nodded, "You said I was cut?"

"Yep, but I fixed!" Lissa's grin spread from cheek to cheek, her white teeth glistening as much as her eyes. She waved her staff around as if she was four again, finding it for the first time. The woman smiled back, her golden eyes glowing with warmth.

"Thank you, Lissa. I owe you a debt. And you too, Chrom and Frederick. I fear what would have happened if I remained here." she said calmly.

Frederick had his back to her, remounting his horse, but nodded in acknowledgement nonetheless, obviously still wary. Lissa skipped towards him and got on behind. Chrom mounted his own horse, and reached for the woman when Frederick cleared his throat.

"Be careful for vipers, milord. You would be vulnerable on a steed."

Chrom met his eyes and nodded, then helped the woman on his horse. Though wary he was, Frederick always had a knack for being right, and while Chrom still had faith in the innocence of the woman behind him, it would be inconvenient indeed if a viper were to strike.

* * *

They had been riding for an hour, exchanging only small talks between each other against an overwhelming feeling of awkwardness. Lissa had prodded at the woman behind Chrom, but she had barely any answers for him. Truly, it seemed that she knew nothing; not of Ylisse, of Plegia, of Regna Ferox or even of Valm. Chrom felt almost sorry for her, unable to truly comprehend something as vast as amnesia quite like hers. Yet his sorrow was not quite enough to trump his cheek, so when asked why Shepherds would tend to sheep in full armour, Chrom only laughed and joked along. The thought of Stahl and Sully, great knights of Ylisse, tending to sheep made him smile.

"What should we call you?" Lissa asked suddenly as they waded through trees.

"Beg pardon?" the woman replied.

"Well, you said you don't remember your name...but we gotta call you something! I mean, 'Woman' is suiting, but I'm pretty sure you'd like that as much as a pegasus named 'Horse'."

Chrom laughed and joined his sister's banter, "Perhaps we should call you by something you're fond of?"

"Well, I do rather like reading," she said, "but please don't call me 'Book'."

The siblings laughed.

"What about Sleepy?" Chrom suggested, "You looked quite snug when we found you."

"No way Chrom! I think Flower is much more fitting. And it's prettier too!"

"Grass? Has a very natural feel to it."

"How about Goldy? Her eyes are quite catching after all."

"Please, pray that you two never have children." Frederick chided with a sigh.

The woman chuckled, a smile etching against her lips. She was quiet for a moment, and then she spoke.

"Azrynne." she said.

"Beg pardon?" Chrom asked, turning his head to the side to hear her better.

"Azrynne. My name. Funny, I only just remembered it now." she said softly, as if trying to desperately to go back to that corner of her mind to find if there was more than just a name hiding in the depths.

"That's a pretty name!" Lissa said, "It sounds kind of foreign. Maybe you're from Valm or something?"

"You know, I don't think I've ever actually met anyone from..." Chrom had ended the thought as soon as it started, as the smell of smoke caught his attention, "Frederick. Do you smell that?"

The knight narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air, realization feeding into his mind. He whipped the reins of his horse, breaking into a gallop as Lissa squealed and grasped onto her guard tightly. Chrom followed quickly in pursuit, shouting a quick word of warning to Azrynne before letting his horse race him back to Southtown.

Only one building was ablaze - Chrom didn't know whether to thank Naga for that or not. The screams of villagers pierced the air, and Chrom heard the wild howling of brigands laughing as they shattered market stalls and broke down doors. Frederick and Lissa sped straight into the heat of the town, immediately helping villagers escape with Frederick's sword cutting down all it could touch. Chrom dismounted his horse, preferring to fight on foot, and gave warning to Azrynne.

"Get inside one of these buildings, stay away from anyone with a blade at hand." he commanded.

Azrynne leapt off the horse, but did not follow his commands. Instead, she reached inside her robe and unsheathed a sword from her hip. Chrom blinked at her, unsure how he could have possibly missed it. Her cloak was more deceiving than he first believed.

"I know my memory is not the most reliable thing right now, but I assure you that my sword hand is quite the opposite! Would you have my blade?" she yelled atop the cracking of fire and the screams of bandits. Chrom needed no more encouragement.

"Strength comes from numbers!" he shouted in return, "Now come! Don't attack anyone with this sigil," Chrom pointed at the mark on his shoulder, "They are Ylissean soldiers!"

The two ran then, diving straight into the fires of battle. Chrom heard the yells and banters of bandits everywhere. Gripping his blade, Falchion, tightly and with confidence, he swung at a brigand, striking him down with a single blow. He sidestepped as another lunged for him, using the momentum of his turn to swing his blade. Another bandit fell before him.

Across the fountain in the centre of Southtown, Chrom saw Frederick astride, taking down bandits by the handful. A horse reared and screamed to his left, and Chrom whipped around in time to see Stahl, the green knight, charge at three bandits at once and fell them all the same. A brigand threw a throwing axe towards him, but before Chrom could call to Stahl for warning, he saw Azrynne push aside the axe with a gust of green words and wind. Awestruck, he stared for a moment, and from the pages of the tome in her hand she ripped apart a spell of fire and burnt the three brutes who charged towards her and Stahl, before returning the book to her cloak and withdrawing her sword once again.

He would question her afterwards, he thought briskly, and his head returned to the heat of battle. He took another swing at a bandit in front of him, and then heard the clatter of blades behind. He turned and saw Kellam, head to toe in armour sturdier than Frederick's, lance against sword with a bandit. He pushed back his assailant before impaling him on the spot.

"Captain! You really should be more careful!" he yelled. Chrom nodded briskly, ignoring the fact that hadn't even seen Kellam approaching. He'd have to ask him about that too, after the fight.

A rush a cool air sprinkled over his shoulder, and he yelled thanks to Lissa as she scurried behind Kellam, using his form as her own personal shield. He scanned the surroundings. Already, Chrom could see bandits retreating, and only a handful remained. Across a bridge, a huge, unruly man fell to Frederick's sword, and the rest went with him. Undoubtedly the leader, Chrom knew the brief siege was over, as bandit screamed to bandit and retreated from their fallen leader.

Within a moment, the town was cleared again. Already, villagers were peeking out of homes, the braver ones dragging the dead bandits from the roadside in an attempt to clean their village. Construction began almost immediately, and before Chrom knew it, the town was bustling again, not from market stalls or lively chatter, but from the bonds of familiarity that drove them to help the wounded and bury the fallen. He walked towards the burning building he had seen approaching the village, examining what remained.

Chrom heard a crack above him. Looking up, he saw a pylon shattering. Before he could even react to the falling rubble, he felt a strong gust of wind buffeting against his back. The pylon fell, only to be swept in a storm of green wind and words and falling shy a metre next to them. Chrom heard two yells behind him and a body slam into pavement, scuffling ensuing.

"Unhand me!" Azrynne screamed.

Chrom whipped around and saw Azrynne pinned to the rocky pavement, her cheek held down my Frederick's hand. His weight was upon her, pinning her down, and his other hand gripped tightly to her wrists. Lissa cried out behind him.

"Forgive me, milady, but I cannot take chances." Frederick said to Azrynne.

"_FREDERICK_," Chrom's voice boomed across the town, the villagers stopping to watch the scuffle, "What are you _doing_?"

Chrom marched towards his knight, baffled. Frederick the Wary was, as his name implied, wary, but his behaviour just then preceded his title. This was a side of Frederick that Chrom did not know of. Frederick was calm though, and looked directly into his eyes. Chrom felt a chill. The chocolate brown was burning. Chrom saw a serious fire in his eye that he hadn't seen since Frederick told him his father had died.

Frederick held Azrynne by her hands and lifted her gently from the ground. She struggled, confused, looking towards Lissa and Chrom for explanation. Frederick pulled her right hand up, letting the fabric of her cloaked sleeves fall.

"Look, milord," Frederick said simply, outstretching Azrynne's right arm towards him, "does this remind you of something?"

Chrom reached for Azrynne's hand and examined the markings on it. A mauve, tattoo-like mark glowed softly against her skin. The mark was undeniable.

"You're a Plegian." Frederick said simply. Azrynne stared at Chrom, perplexed. He let go of her hand as Frederick continued, "Do you know what that mark on you hand is?"

Azrynne lifted her hand before her, palm away. The mauve mark bore six, eye-like symbols, interlocked in spirals. Chrom felt uneasy thinking about it.

"That's the mark of Grima. Only the Grimleal bear that mark, and Grimleals mainly consist of Plegians..." Frederick explained.

"Frederick, let go!" Lissa ran towards them, shoving her body against Frederick. He let go out of sheer surprise. "What is wrong with you? Azrynne just helped us defend Southtown! How could you go attacking her like that?"

Frederick composed himself before replying, "Lady Lissa, look at the mark on her hand."

_"I see it!"_ she screamed, "Do you think I care? Do you think Stahl cares, considering she _saved_ him?"

Chrom shook his head, "Frederick, I understand your concerns. But this could have been handled much more delicately."

Frederick sighed, adjusting the tie beneath his suit of armour, "Forgive me, milord, but her magic was powerful, I saw it during the battle. When I saw her rip the page from her tome when no one but you was left...I assumed the worse the moment I saw the mark on her hand."

The square fell silent. Villagers awkwardly continued their work, ignoring the prince and his cohort out of respect. Some apprehensively moved away, with a look that Chrom could tell was from confusion and fear about an apparent Plegian among them.

"Forgive me," Azrynne said curtly, wiping the dirt from her cheek with her sleeve, "But I know nothing of Plegians or Grimlins or whatever they might be called." Her eyes were cold now, and she grimaced at Chrom.

"No, milady," Chrom said, sighing, "It is us you should pardon."

"An explanation would be worthy exchange of my forgiveness." Azrynne said simply.

Chrom nodded, understanding. He called his Shepherds together and guided them and Azrynne to the town inn, requesting shelter. Without a moments delay, they disappeared into the confines of the building, and the townspeople continued to work in an unsettling quiet until what little they could repair was done and dusted.

* * *

As Kellam, Stahl and Lissa prepared their rooms and removed their armour, Chrom sat with Frederick and Azrynne, a cool beverage for each to calm the day's battles. Azrynne, though, wore a face quite the opposite of amusement. Where to begin? Chrom massaged his temples. Kind hearted Frederick the Wary was a strange man today, but Chrom couldn't find himself blaming him. Chrom knew that if he lived the life of a knight and Frederick was his lordling, he would have done just the same. But this was not something known to Azrynne. Before he could speak though, Frederick stood from his seat and bowed deeply to Azrynne.

"I apologize to you, milady," he said, "While my intentions were true, my actions reflected poorly against my character. While I cannot say I trust you quite yet, the severity of my actions was unbecoming considering your recent help."

Always a gentleman, Chrom thought. He could tell that Frederick spoke the truth. The distrust was there, an overwhelming aura that Chrom had learnt to sense from his guardian, but his regret was true. Before all else, Frederick was a man of honour.

"You are forgiven," Azrynne said softly after a moment, "I understand your concern. I would do the same for my own children."

Chrom choked on his spit, and Frederick's usual stern expression broke out into one of perplex.

"Y-you misunderstand! Frederick isn't my…he's not my…he's not even old enough to…?" Chrom stammered clumsily. Azrynne smiled for the first time since she had remembered her name.

"I know," she said simply, "But his devotion to you is all the same."

They were silent for another moment, but it did not feel in any way awkward. Chrom glanced at Frederick. Chrom's father died when he was four – Frederick was 16 at the time, one of the youngest knights in training. Frederick had always been there for Chrom and his sisters – for generations, Frederick's family served the Ylissean royal family with their lives. Frederick had devoted no different to Chrom and his sisters. It was at that moment at Chrom realized that in more ways than one, Frederick was not only his guardian, but somewhat of a father figure as well. The thought warmed his heart.

"But please…I would like to know what caused you to distrust me so much at just the mere sight." Azrynne interrupted the silence.

Chrom sighed, hoping that his mind could find a way to summarize the past twenty years of slowly cascading chaos. He would have to start from the beginning; the very beginning.

"Have you heard of the Fell Dragon, Grima?" Chrom asked. Azrynne shook her head – Chrom wasn't sure why he asked.

"Millennia ago, the Fell Dragon, Grima, wrecked havoc across the land. He was a colossal beast. Legends described him to be the pit of all despair, and some say he came from the very fires of hell itself. Someone once told me he was the size of whole islands, able to crush a single town with a beat of his wings. Grima haunted the land for years, until the Divine Dragon, Naga, put a stop to him.

"The Divine Dragon is a god whose power matched that of Grima's. With it, she blessed the land with a sword name Falchion that was imbued with her very essence – the only thing able to strike Grima down. She gave this sword to Ylisse's first Exalt, who killed the dragon in a grand duel that was forever recorded in the annals of history.

"This is how the legend goes, according to us, at least. There is a cult that worships Grima – they are called the Grimleal. Their sigil is the very mark on your hand. According to the Grimleal, the Fell Dragon wasn't a chaotic beast of evil, but rather a saviour. The Grimleal believe that Grima was a dragon of reform, and that he emerged from the sorrow of people's hearts to wipe out the evils that plagued the world. According to them, when the Divine Dragon heard of Grima's plan to reform the planet, she grew angry that anyone would attempt to destroy the world she created and spread lies about his origins. Corrupted with lies, the first Exalt took her blade and struck Grima down out of ignorance, and the world was never cleansed of its evils because of Naga and her heroes.

"The Grimleal in our time are a cult of strong mages, most of whom expertise in the dark arts. Their ultimate goal is to revive Grima and bring about the coming of a new world, built by Grima's power to cleanse all evil."

Throughout his explanation, Azrynne had remained silent, listening intently. She nodded in a way that Chrom felt assured that she had absorbed all his words in as much detail as possible. She studied the mark on her hand carefully, tracing it with her fingers. After a moment of silence, she reached into her cloak and pulled out her tome, a thick book filled with ancient writings and magics.

"Do all Grimleal know dark magic?" she asked curtly.

"Not all," Frederick responded, curiosity piqued by her mismatched tome, "but most do."

Azrynne nodded and closed her eyes, as if thinking. Her fingers outlined the edge of her tome, tracing its shape and the flow of its writing.

"I don't know dark magic," she said simply, "while there are many things I do not know at this time, this is one thing I am certain of."

"How is that?" Chrom asked.

"This tome. It contains many magics, some of which far surpass my skill. There is dark magic in here." she flipped her book open and turned to the centre. The old, flopping sounds of turning pages rang crisply throughout the air.

"As a mage, you can feel magic channelling through your veins. I can feel the scorch of fire, the magnetism of lightning and the ice of wind in almost every other page. But here, I feel nothing. There is nothing to channel. Try all I might, but nothing will come from this page, no matter how hard I try."

"You could be lying to us." said Frederick the Wary.

"You will just have to trust me." Azrynne said simply.

Chrom examined her tome with curiosity. It was rare to find a magic tome that contained more than one mastery of any element. Hers contained several. He knew two mages at the castle with similar tomes that they had purchased with their own savings, and many others were locked away in the armoury, for use only in wartime.

"I trust you." Chrom said, and Azrynne smiled in gratitude.

"I do have a question though," Azrynne started, "It is obvious that the religion here in Ylisse follows Naga side of the story…but would it truly be so evil for me to have followed the other side before all of this? Surely, religion is simply religion, and if Grima hasn't been resurrected for many a millennia than there can be no harm in a little belief."

"That is not why I attacked you." Frederick replied to her.

"Then why?" she asked.

"Because the Grimleal consist almost exclusively of Plegians…which would make you our enemy." he replied.

Azrynne nodded slowly, then said, "You are at war with this Plegia country then, I assume?"

"Not at war," Chrom said, "but our relations are not exactly friendly. Those brigands that attack the village before…you would not have noticed, but I'm sure everyone else did. They had Plegian accents."

"A country would send soldiers to your door in the form of bandits?" Azrynne asked in shock.

"Plegia is not known for its honourable tactics, and its King, Gangrel, is a dirty bastard among men," Frederick said clearly, "You would understand our apprehension if you had the knowledge that Plegian spies have attempted the life of the Exalt more than once."

Azrynne gasped, then said, "Yet you say you are not at war?"

"The Exalt is a kind and patient woman. Her generous heart and gentle soul knows no bounds. She knows that a full war campaign will destroy the morality of Ylisse. She is doing everything in her power to keep that from happening, and so every poorly disguised attack from Plegia is met with forgiveness." Chrom told her.

"…that is strong of her," Azrynne said with a soft smile, "many rulers' pride would come before the sanctuary of their people."

Chrom smiled at her. He knew it then, this was his proof. Her smile was as genuine as her words, true from her heart. No Plegian viper could speak of Emmeryn so fondly. And from the indisputably kind nature of her words, Chrom knew then that her plea of lost memory was true. Frederick had often called him gullible, but Chrom made no mistake with this judgement. He knew that Azrynne would be a friend, and after today, he was going to make it his duty to make her a Shepherd.

* * *

Author's Notes

I tried very hard with this chapter to not 'demonize' any characters – especially Frederick. I felt that his apprehension in the game was for good reason, but it all but disappeared after they returned to Ylisstol? Come on. I'm trying hard to make sure no character comes off as needlessly 'evil', but obviously when you put over 20 characters together not all of them are going to get along. It would be delusional to think that in a room of 20 others, you wouldn't dislike at least one.

I am trying to find a steady pacing for this story. I've completely mapped out events of the story chapter by chapter, but I felt this one ran too long and I couldn't fit half the content I wanted to into it. For reviews, I'd like to know how you feel about the length of this chapter. I intended for this to be the average length of a chapter, but considering that I didn't nearly fit as much as I wanted to into it, would it be difficult to read if chapters were twice as long instead?

You can also see from this chapter that while the dialogue follows the game, it is vastly different, and while the general story is still the same, different things occur (for example, Stahl and Kellam waiting in Southtown for the trio to return from their stroll).

A final note, from my chapter by chapter mapping I expect this story to be well over 30 chapters of this length. As a novelisation, I guess you came into this expecting something long. I hope this isn't _too _long. Give me your opinions on this too, maybe?

Again, reviews are greatly appreciated, I absolutely adore them. In fact, I didn't plan to write this chapter until next week, but the few reviews I got excited me so much I started it as soon as I could. Expect more characterisation of Azrynne next chapter with some more developments in relationships.


	3. A Change to Desire

**Quick Notes: **Please take note before reading as there is some gore in this chapter.

* * *

**A Change to Desire**

_Azrynne_

Pendulums and falling sand – a world full of curious things and unexplained reckonings, yet there is only ever a single constant. If there was one thing Azrynne knew about herself, it was that she had never found time to be a difficult subject to pass. Whether by the twitching of a warm fire, or the smoky wisps of a hot, brewing tea, she had found ways to bathe her patience in calm respite. In the ease of her silence and passing time, Azrynne found fleeting moments of reflection to contemplate the curiosities of her mind.

It felt empty. Not only her memories, but also her very soul – like a part of her had been stolen by a thief of persona. While people were tempered by the actions of those around them and the events of their past, Azrynne had neither before recent events. What was there left to temper her soul and forge her being? In her small, feeblish room, with naught but a lantern and creaking floorboards to accompany her, Azrynne felt more alone than anyone else in the world.

There was a small mirror in her room, next to where she had placed her sword and tome – a cracked, fogged, and broken thing that gave nary more than a vague description of one's appearance – but it was enough for her. Sitting atop her mattress, Azrynne held the mirror high and examined herself.

Her eyes were golden, just as the siblings had told her. Azrynne admitted to herself that they were indeed quite striking, and in a moment of fleeting vanity decided that they were her best features. But aside from her warm, amber eyes, Azrynne left much to be desired by her dishevelled state. Her hair was a mess, there were blood and dirt stains across her body, and calluses and bruises near uncountable covered her arms, hands and legs. Moving the foggy mirror closer to examine her features, she found small nicks and scars in various parts of her body, of which all had unknown origins.

She stared at her reflection for what seemed like a moment, but when she gingerly placed the mirror back on the floor, her arms ached and her eyes felt strained. No matter how long she looked, no features could spark a memory to clear the mysteries of her mind. The only thought that flooded her mind were images of broken walls, the tremors of terrible thunder, and the voice of a laughing man she could barely remember. While the memory of the dream had been so clear when she had first roused from her sleep, it was gone now – all that was left were slight feelings and hunches of a possibility of what had happened. There were no more memories to stir in her mind. She thought this would be an appropriate time as any to feel a churning or despair in her stomach – but all she felt was emptiness instead. No worry, no sadness, no nerves; simply a lack of all emotion, the opposite of everything – nothing.

She shook the thoughts from her head and removed her warm, black cloak, revealing blood encrusted clothing that still hung from her body. She had completely forgotten the state that Chrom, Lissa and Frederick had found her in until just after sunset, when construction work for the day ended and everyone prepared themselves for night. She had taken off her cloak, sweating and exhausted, to find the green-plated knight she had assisted staring at her with raised eyebrows and mouth ajar. At first she thought him strange, but when she too found the burly, armour clad warrior looking at her oddly did she realize the state of her clothing. Perhaps she could be mistaken for a butcher's mad and homeless daughter.

Undressing, she approached the barrel of now lukewarm water in the corner of her room that Chrom had requested the innkeeper to prepare for her, and gingerly washed her body with a soaked cloth. Her room was so small she had to avoid spilling the water against her mattress not two feet away; she had to make sure the water instead caught upon a stone inlay to flow into a hole in the corner of the wall, where it would presumably be sent back to the grass outside.

With a small bucket, she soaked her hair and pulled her fingers through, painfully trying to unknot the strands. Parts of her hair had become matted with blood and mud, and she wondered just how long she had been lying on that field before Chrom and company had found her. She dipped her stained clothes into the barrel when finished and scrubbed them meticulously; Azrynne hoped that the red stains were not permanent.

Leaving her old clothes to dry against the windowsill, Azrynne wore the clothes given to her and brushed her hair to remove the final knots. A clump of broken hair sat in a wet pile by the barrel – not all of it was salvageable. She frowned, deciding that her long, burnt, auburn-red hair was her second best feature. At least she didn't have to cut it, she thought.

Azrynne sat on her mattress to think more when she had been properly clean and dried. After speaking with Chrom and Frederick that afternoon, she had assisted them and the townsfolk in repairing what they could from the bandit's destruction. From what she had gathered, Chrom and his companions would leave at daybreak, and he had offered her invitation to join them. With no other direction to go, Azrynne had accepted.

She figured that Chrom and his friends were not average shepherds at all. Chrom and Frederick's armour was already a giveaway when they had first met, but their fighting abilities far surpassed those of mere sheep handlers. Chrom had told her that the greened and armoured knights were Ylissean soldiers because of the symbols they wore – Azrynne was unsure whether Chrom expected her to figure out his position as a soldier on her own, or whether he had intended to tell her eventually but simply forgot. It mattered not, she thought, though she did find entertainment in the thought of Frederick attempting to wrestle a sheep into submission.

Hearing a knock at her door, Azrynne realized how hungry she was. The fact that she had not even eaten since awakening made her eyes widen slowly in shock. How many days had it been since she had food? Quelling the thought in favour of actually eating, she called a rushed _I'm coming! _and reached for something to tie her hair with before rushing to the door.

"Oh, hey there…Chrom sent me to…uhm…" It was the green knight. To match his armour, the knight had mousy brown-green hair and wide, emerald eyes accenting the features of his face. His hair was messy, not nearly as well kept as Frederick's, but he had an aura about him that made Azrynne feel at ease rather than being closely watched. He too had a strong jaw, and his face was rather oval shaped and innocent looking. He had removed his armour, but still sported a green tunic with rolled sleeves and puffy black pants wedged into brown boots that matched his armour. He was thin relative to Frederick, but his arms and legs were still very muscular, and Azrynne found it fitting for him to be a soldier. Despite all this though, he wore the same, dumbfounded face as before, with a matching raised eyebrow to boot.

Azrynne wiped her hand across her face. No blood or dirt was on her fingers. She looked at her clothes – buttoned, presentable, and clean. Was her skin showing? No, everything looked fine. She quickly pressed her hands on her head – her hair felt in place too.

"Wha- what's wrong?" she asked nervously.

He blinked a few times and looked around before saying, "I'm sorry, but…your name's Azrynne, right?"

"Yes," she said, "though I regret to say that I don't know yours."

"Oh," he said, eyes still wide and brows raised, "Oh, okay." He and Azrynne stood there for an awkward moment.

"Uhm…may I ask for your name?" Azrynne said nervously. Realizing his pause, the knight shook his head and cleared his throat.

"Oh, sorry! My name's Stahl. Nice to meet you properly Azrynne," he extended his hand, and Azrynne took it tentatively. He shook it strongly though, and with vest, "I'm sorry about that. I just wasn't expecting you to look so…well…normal?"

Azrynne raised an eyebrow.

"No! I mean. I was expecting you to be a lot more unruly, and…" He waved his hand around his head, motioning to his hair before abruptly stopping, "Wait. Oh, wow. I meant to say I was expecting your hair to be all messy and stuff and, wait, that's. Oh. I…I should stop talking."

Azrynne smiled at Stahl, and he nervously smiled back.

"Sully always said I was never one to think before speaking," he said with a nervous laugh and bowed, "I'm sorry, that was really rude of me."

"It's okay," Azrynne replied, "I know what you mean. I guess I looked a bit like a murderous mad woman with all that blood on me, didn't I? I'd probably do the same thing this as you."

Stahl sighed with relief, "Yeah, I suppose. But, uh, hey, you know, I forgot to thank you for before. With the bandits. You really saved my behind from that hatchet. I'd probably be a bit worse for wear without your help."

"I was glad to assist," Azrynne said, smiling, "I'm sure even if I wasn't there, Lissa would be more than helpful fixing you up."

"Yeah, but it's always better to not need to fixing in the first place, you know?" Stahl said with a smile, "Oh, and…sorry about Frederick. He doesn't usually act like that, you know. He's actually a really nice guy, and funny too! He feels as bad about it as the rest of us, probably, just won't admit it."

"It's okay," Azrynne said once again, "I would have done the same. My circumstances don't exactly lend me to being the most trustworthy person, I suppose."

"Yeah, with your memory and all. But that's another topic for another day. I don't think anyone deserved that, especially after your help. You've been really nice and helpful today."

Azrynne smiled and nodded, "Thank you. It's nice meeting you, Stahl. Was that all?"

"Oh, wait, I was supposed to tell you dinner is almost ready," he said with a sudden clarity, "Guess I kind of got off topic."

Azrynne smiled and closed the door behind her, accompanying Stahl down the corridors of the inn and towards the main dining hall. The ambience of boiling stock and clattering cutlery made her mouth water, and she noticed just how parched her throat was. The inn was clambering with quite a fair number of people, some of whom had drank too much mead for how early in the night it was, others who had a faint pinkish glow about them who were giddy with laughter, and others too who bantered and boasted among friends and family alike to see who was the strongest, or most handsome, or most likely to wrangle a griffon and live to tell the tale with at least one arm intact.

Azrynne approached the first table she saw, unsure of just who was friendly in this sea of unfamiliar faces, but Stahl reached out for the second she veered from his path and gripped her arms with zest.

"Hey now young lady, the _heroes _of the town get to sit over _here_." He said with a grin. He directed her to the back of the dining hall, the side closest to the kitchen, and the aromas that washed over her senses made her stomach growl too loud for comfort. Azrynne gripped at her long bangs and tried to sway them in front of her face to hide her pink glow, but Stahl just laughed at her and hurried along, still gripping her arm.

Against the walls, near a large windowsill that connected kitchen and dining hall, Stahl lead her to two tables where Chrom, Lissa, and many others had already settled. At one table, Lissa and the burly man who was only half the size of his armour sat with two village folk. Across from them at another table sat Chrom and Frederick, the former of whom smiled and waved Stahl and Azrynne over. Azrynne smiled and waved back, and Stahl sat down beside her, opposite Chrom and his ever stern-faced body guard.

The group looked strange without their armoured clothes on. Lissa had removed the underwire of her skirt and the brown corset that tightened around her waist, so she looked much smaller than before in clothes that looked far too loose on her tiny frame. Azrynne could barely recognise the man next to her, who was in fact the armoured man from before, except stripped of all armour, instead wearing a brown tunic and matching pants. He had neat brown hair and chocolate eyes, like Frederick, however he sported a warm and kind smile and had a plump, round face, quite the opposite to his rather large and strong build. Chrom hadn't looked too different, still sporting the blue and white tunic beneath his armoured shoulder guards – though sans the armour. His dark blue hair was neatly tucked away from his face, and his eyes had a warm and inviting glow to them. Azrynne hadn't noticed before, but he was quite muscular – she supposed it was expected, considering what she saw of his fighting skills during the skirmish. Despite everyone's different attire, it was Frederick, though, who looked most out of place. Azrynne had noticed a tie under his armour, but hardly expected him to wear such dapper attire; a full button-up shirt and tie that were neatly tucked into black suit pants. Yet his stance showed no embarrassment or doubt on his part, and instead of _him_ feeling odd it was instead Azrynne who felt underdressed being even in the same room as him.

"You look much better, Azrynne. I hardly recognized you with your hair up," Chrom said, "A bath and some rest was all you needed."

"And Lady Lissa too, lest we forget about her. And we did find Azrynne in a field, milord," Frederick said in return, "You can't expect perfect appearance when you're covered in your own blood and mud from the riverbed. Though you do look quite pale, Azrynne."

"Yes, I wouldn't doubt that. I don't think I've eaten yet." she replied.

"Gods, who knows how long it's been since your last meal then! Myrta, the inn's cook is working with her husband now. It won't be much more of a wait." Chrom said.

"I could go for some food now too! It's been _hours_ since I last ate…" Stahl said, clutching his stomach and bending over the table, "Ah, wait. That was rude again, wasn't it?"

Azrynne smiled and shook her head. The group chatted idly as they waited, most of the small talk being passed around Azrynne, Chrom and Stahl. Frederick only ever spoke when addressed. Very quickly, she became accustomed to the quirks of their merry band.

Chrom spoke with a type of confidence that instantly gripped her attention. When he spoke, she felt only the desire to listen, as if every word that left his mouth was of dire importance. Like Frederick, his posture was straight and exuded confidence, a fitting match with his strong voice. Frederick, in turn, spoke very little and very clearly. He rarely dallied with idle chatter and his thoughts were never drawn out, simply presented at front. Beside her, Stahl seemed to only ever be concerned with food. She wondered if that was because of his hunger or if it really was a staple of his being. But she could tell, regardless, that he had a kind and gentle heart, speaking fondly of the small inn they sat in and the homely feeling of the villages he had apparently visited. Even though she sat not two metres away, Azrynne was sure she could be across the room and still hear Lissa excitedly speaking with the people around her. She was not shy to strangers, often waving at them and speaking to others who sat three tables away. The man beside her, whose name Azrynne found out to be Kellam, was much quieter in turn. Sometimes she heard him speak, but she could never make out his words beneath everyone else's. Indeed, his silence often made her forget his very presence.

"Azrynne." a strong voice turned her attention away from Lissa's banter with a drunken man who was insisting she couldn't possibly defeat him in an arm wrestle. She saw Frederick looking at her keenly, and realized it was the first time in the conversation he had taken the initiative to speak first.

"What are you plans after all this?" he asked.

"Well, I thought I was accompanying you and everyone to wherever your next destination may be?" Azrynne said with slight doubt in her voice.

"I meant afterwards," Frederick elaborated, "Surely you have plans to regain your memory? Or seek out a familiar face? You don't even know if you have a home."

It was true. Azrynne didn't know if she had a home or friends or even family. These were things that had crossed her mind in the hour or two she spent alone in her room, but she could find no solution to the puzzles. Where would she even begin? Try as she might, no amount of thinking could bring back any memories to her that weren't already learnt by reflexes. Perhaps she could begin with Ylisse, but to search a vast country with the simple goal of hoping that _someone _might recognize her face? Impossible, even more so if she considered adding Plegia or this 'Regna Ferox' to her list of places to go. So instead of coming up with some kind of elaborate response, Azrynne answered simply and truthfully.

"I don't know, Frederick. There aren't many places for a woman with no history to her name to go, are there?"

"Maybe someone at the capital will recognise you?" Stahl said.

"And maybe someone won't," she said, "Though I can almost guarantee you that those odds are not as simple as a game of heads or tails. I'll be honest with you and say that I simply don't know. Perhaps I could travel, or perhaps I could sit here and wait for my memory to return. Each is a gamble, no matter what decision I make."

Stahl nodded, though seemed drained by the very nature of the conversation. Azrynne could tell he drew energy from a positive environment. There are people in the world whose biorhythm simply sought particular atmospheres to strive. Frederick stared at her with contemplation, while Chrom seemed to be thinking in his own world. Azrynne changed the topic out of politeness, hoping to ease the conversation.

"Surely the food could take no longer?" Azrynne said with cheek, "They must be cooking whole cattle at a time in there to take this long."

Before Stahl could even jump the opportunity to whine about his hunger, Chrom interjected with his own thoughts on their previous conversation.

"Have you considered the possibility of joining with us, Azrynne?" he said.

"I thought I was?" she said with surprise, "Is…that no longer allowed?"

"No, I don't mean joining us _to_ the capital. I meant joining us _at _the capital. You could become a soldier of Ylisse yourself." he said. From the corner of her eye, Azrynne saw Frederick's eye flicker with distaste at the suggestion, but he hid it well.

"You want me to become a Shepherd?" she asked.

"Ah, so you've figured it out on your own." Chrom said with a smile.

"I assure you that it was no difficult puzzle," Azrynne chided him with a smile, "But to answer you, no. I had not considered that. But I don't believe my place is quite fitting in an army."

"But you have nowhere else to go," Chrom pushed, "Even if you only join us temporarily, as a member of the Shepherds, you could join scouts and marches across Ylisse. We ensure the safety of _all_ our cities. This way you could see all of Ylisse in the safety of numbers, as a soldier. What better way to regain your memory? Being a Shepherd ensures you a bed to return to as well, and if all else fails…I believe with all my heart that Ylisse is the only home that anyone could ever need."

"I've seen you fight," Stahl said, "You'd fit right in. You'd be perfect as a Shepherd."

"You're joining us?" Azrynne heard an excited shriek from the table next to us as Lissa jumped towards her, "You would be _perfect!_ I can introduce you to everyone, I'm sure they'd all like you!"

"It'd be nice to have a friendly face around," Kellam added, "That is, if I could also become a familiar face in return…"

Just as the excitement hit boiling point, before Azrynne could even get her own say in on whether or not the idea was outrageous or plausible, a plump, shapely woman with a hearty voice yelled _Dinner is ready!_ and a dozen voices drowned her thoughts in triumphant applause. Tables and chairs screeched across the hard, wooden floors as several people a table stood up to grab their bowls of warm, boiling broth and hefty, fist sized chunks of meat. Being next to the windowsill, Azrynne and Lissa's tables were served directly from the kitchen, while everyone else lined up eagerly at another windowsill where the plump woman and her husband served the meals. Azrynne didn't think to bring up their initial conversation, opting for food instead. She could wait no longer. Along with dozen others in the dining room, she hastily began to eat.

The broth was thick with aroma and juices, its taste accentuated by a multitude of herbs. At the bottom of her bowl, she found long rice noodles mixed among various types of vegetation like green stalks, bean sprouts and onions. Star shaped cinnamon stalks sprinkled across her bowl, its rich smell and flavour mixing with the ox bones and meat that had spent likely hours brewing in the stock. And finally, accompany her thin rice noodles, were slices of tender beef that had cooked on standing in the fiery hot broth. The meal was the best one Azrynne would ever come to have.

Despite the size of her room and the state of the inn in appearance only, the entire building soaked in a type of familiarity and comfort that Azrynne thought difficult to deny. For a second, she had forgotten the events of the day and her lack of memory, enjoying her soup at the side and comfort of her new found companions. For just a while, it was a welcoming feeling.

Next to her, Stahl choked on a chunk of ox bone and spat soup at Frederick, who sat across him. The stern guard grimaced and scolded Stahl, who only proceeded to hack up the bone and spit directly into Frederick's white shirt. The green knight apologized feverishly, but Frederick simply plucked Stahl's bowl from in front of him and halved its content into his own.

"Your punishment." he said simply, and Stahl stared at his half empty bowl with such sadness that Azrynne could hear his very stomach whining.

When they had finished (though Stahl had requested at least two more servings – how he even fit in his armour with a stomach like that was a wonder), Azrynne saw people slowly filing out of the dining hall. As the hours passed, some returned to their rooms, and others, she discovered, were not patrons at all, and were simply joining them for a meal. When the hours of night had long since crept upon them and Lissa had fallen asleep at her table, Azrynne decided it was time for her to retire as well. She excused herself from the table, but Chrom interrupted.

"Everyone's excitement aside," Chrom said, "I still haven't heard your answer. Won't you at least consider the possibility, if no other options are available to you?"

Behind her, she heard a subtle scoff and noticed Frederick carrying Lissa away. She was small against him and clutched his shirt in a tired daze that was so childlike. They looked even more like father and daughter for just a moment.

"I don't want to cause trouble." Azrynne said simply. Chrom understood her words.

"You won't, I assure you," he told her, "I guarantee things will change for you Azrynne, and I know the first step lies with you joining us as a Shepherd."

Azrynne contemplated silently, but decided to let her dreams come first. She nodded at him, promising him consideration, and stood up to return to her room. Stahl accompanied her, and the two left Chrom with Myrta, her husband, and a handful of straddlers who remained awake. She found that Stahl's room was only opposite to hers, and with a quick goodnight, the two retired to their separate beds.

Her room had a much different atmosphere than the dining hall. Azrynne became aware all too soon that she was, truly, alone in this world. Her lantern flickered weakly on the floor, next to her mattress. Checking the state of her clothes, Azrynne secured them for the night less they be taken by wind, and cleaned the mess she had made from her bath. Keenly aware of how loud her actions sounded in the solitude of her small room, Azrynne retired silently and swiftly.

Sitting on her mattress with the dim light of her lantern beside her, Azrynne took a moment to examine her tome. It wasn't particularly large or unwieldy, but was thicker than most, having more pages. Flipping page by page, she noticed words and scribbles that she could barely read in every corner of the tome. Two styles of handwriting filtered the book. One, she could read clearly, and she could tell immediately that they were the etchings of sacred and magical inscriptions that were the source of the tome's very power. The other, though, she had difficulty reading, as the handwriting was rushed and sometimes smudged. The few words she could make out held little to no meaning. Worse of all, most of the pages had been water logged, rendering them unreadable. While Azrynne knew by mere reflex alone what each page was for and what incantations were needed to summon its power, the writing was lost to her. She closed her tome and reached for her sword.

The sword was a simple thing – nothing special at all. She found no writing on it or any kind of carvings or engravings that gave away its maker. The blade was strong steel, and its grip was newly wrapped, as if the old one had been worn and replaced many times before. The blade itself was still sharp enough to kill, but lacked an edge to make it truly worth any value. She would have to invest in a new one, as this one had seemed ready to retire.

Her weapons held some kind of history. Azrynne knew this. Her tome was unique, no one need tell her that for her to realize. What history did it hold that Azrynne couldn't unlock? For a moment, she felt like her waterlogged book, a thing of power, significance and knowledge, now forever stained, writings unreadable and histories unknown. Her mind flickered to Chrom's offer. It was true, she was quite a fighter indeed, and in the depths of battle a kind of power and knowledge instigated her movements and guided her hand. She found it natural, like second nature, and before her enemy could even move she had already thought out her next ten steps. Perhaps she could find some kind of strange place as a Shepherd alongside Chrom, Lissa and all the others.

Azrynne sighed and thought of it no more, coming to no conclusion. She put her weapons at the foot of her mattress. Lying down, she pushed the thoughts of armies and strange writings away. They brought no memories with them, so Azrynne gave them no more focus and instead listened to the whispering sounds of night owls and crickets. She turned off her lantern and tried to think of the road ahead, yet found no success. The thoughts of mysterious scribbles and strange symbols filled her mind. The emptiness that plagued her before when she thought of her past continued to linger, but slowly she felt it transform. Still empty, she thought, but now painful. She looked at the strange marking of eyes on the back of her hand. Who was she? Azrynne only wanted an answer. Try as she might though, the darkness of night gave her no reply, and staring at the moon through her window, she thought of Chrom's offer a final time before drifting to dream of broken towers, thundering magic and a cold and hollow laughing man.

* * *

Azrynne yawned atop her horse. It was just approaching sunset, but she had been awake since sunrise at the very latest.

At the crack of dawn, she awoke to Stahl banging on her door. Putting on her original clothes, which were now clean and stain free, she folded her borrowed ones and quickly gathered her things and tied her hair before leaving. Outside the inn, Frederick was already on his steed with Lissa, and while Lissa wore her original corset and light leather armour, Frederick only wore half of his own. Chrom had his shoulder and chest armour strapped on tightly, however Kellam only wore half the weight of his own. Looking at Stahl, Azrynne had noticed that he too only wore half of his armour. Next to them were three other horses waiting.

She noticed a small carriage attached to one of the horses, not quite big enough to fit more than one person comfortably. Atop it, she saw the remains of everyone's armour and a few bags of supplies and goods. They were gifts from the village to the capitol, Chrom explained to her, and once goodbyes were exchanged to the villagers, Chrom, Stahl and Kellam mounted their steeds. With no extra horses to spare, Azrynne has riding behind Stahl on his own horse. She understood now why the heavily armoured Shepherds had removed parts of their armour – to avoid strain to the horses.

"Falling asleep back there?" Stahl asked her.

"Would you blame me?" Azrynne said with a laugh.

"Nah, I'm damn tired too…but alas, the life of a soldier." he replied.

"I'm tired too!" Lissa said, "I just want a normal chair or something…how can anyone feel comfortable on a horse for so long?"

"You won't have to feel so tired for long," Chrom told them, "there's our stop."

Not believing that they could have possibly reached another town, let alone the capitol in less than a day's travel, Azrynne held onto Stahl tightly as she lent to the left of the horse, peering across his side. Ahead of them, she saw purple and pink paints staining the skies above as sunset began. Casting long shadows from the angle of the sun was a large sign, with writing that Azrynne was yet able to read. As they approached though, she saw the sign was in fact one for a crossroad and was quite old and waterlogged, with moss grown on its edges. In each direction of the crossroad, the sign had one plank of wood pointing. One said, in large, black letters, 'YLISSTOL', while the other was clearly labelled 'BAIYON GARDEN'. The road to Baiyon Garden lead to what Azrynne could see was a forest in the distance.

"Why here?" Azrynne asked, "Surely we can get another hour of travel before dark?"

"We're actually expecting someone from Baiyon Garden." Chrom explained to her as he dismounted. Next to him, she saw Frederick, Lissa and Kellam dismounting as well.

"Baiyon Garden?" Azrynne asked.

"It's a nearby village," Stahl explained as he got off his horse, "From the crossroads it's about a week journey to Yllistol or the Gardens."

Azrynne nodded as Chrom further elaborated, "Our patrol group here was one member larger; however she split to go to Baiyon Garden to pick up some potential new recruits for the Shepherds. We're supposed to meet her and the recruits she's getting at the crossroads." Chrom explained.

"I see," Azrynne said as she joined everyone else on steady ground, "Who do we expect?"

"She's a cavalier, like me," Stahl said, "Her name's Sully; we were supposed to meet by sunset so she'll get here soon enough. Oh, by the way, she's got a bit of a…dirty mouth, so to speak. You learn to get used to it, but try not to find much offense from that. She also spars constantly. You get used to that too. And try not to interrupt her training; she'll get really mad really fast."

"Duly noted." Azrynne said.

"No, Azrynne. He's not joking. She's really a handful sometimes." Kellam said.

"And her fist is about as strong as her bite," Lissa added, "Don't ever try to mess with Sully!"

"The woman can spew more curses in a minute than a horse can run metres." Frederick said while adjusting his tie.

"Sully once beat me down with nothing but her fists after I declined one too many sparring matches with her." Chrom added.

"Surely she can't be that bad?" Azrynne said.

In unison, Azrynne heard, '_She is'_ echo back at her.

The group made camp there as they waited for their final members to arrive. As Stahl left with Frederick and the emptied carriage to find firewood, she helped Kellam and Chrom secure their horses and supplies for the coming night. Lissa complained of bugs and noise for the most part, and Azrynne couldn't help laughing when Lissa all but screeched when Kellam pointed out a spider on her skirt. Frederick had rushed back within less than a minute, only to sigh and sulk off when he realized that Lissa was just being herself. Chrom sighed at his sister with a smile.

"And you say you're ready to join us on more scouts." he said.

"I am!" Lissa fought back.

"I don't know," Azrynne said, "You wouldn't be very impressive soldiers if all of you trembled at spiders so feverishly."

When Frederick and Stahl had returned, night was fast approaching and Chrom had to use what little lantern oil they had to spare to stall the darkness for just a few minutes. Frederick carried with him a deer he had hunted, while Stahl had the firewood. He fumbled with it though, unable to light it with his flint.

"Aren't you glad you have me?" Azrynne asked as she lit the fire with her fingertips. She smiled as Stahl groaned in defeat.

"You're just like Miriel," he said, "She always lights it for me."

When the deer had cooked and the group had gotten comfortable for the night, idle chatter spread through their small campsite. There wasn't much to talk about, Azrynne realized, or at least, there wasn't much for _her_ to talk about. She heard mentions of Plegia and Ylisstol, but they held barely much meaning for her. There was talk about upcoming Khans and festivals and how Kellam was excited to see some kind of 'Feroxi circus troupe' coming to the Capitol, but Azrynne soon tuned out, finding conversations hard to follow.

Two hours passed since they made camp before they heard the sound of horses approaching. In the middle of eating their venison, a woman in red armour astride a large, black stallion approached them, followed by two others who rode on a grey Pegasus who seemed to have tired of flying for the day.

"Sully!" Kellam said, "You're late."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Couldn't get lover boy here off his fat ass in the mornings so he kept slowing down progress." Sully said.

Sully was a tall woman. When she dismounted her horse, she stood taller than Chrom, matching Frederick in height and only just shorter than Kellam. She held a lance in her hand; a large, shiny and expensive one, at that. Azrynne knew immediately what her forte was. She had short, spiky red hair that resembled the small fire the group had huddled around, and her orange-red eyes matched her entire make up well. Sully had a slim, oval shaped face, and like Stahl was not very thick built at all, more slim and muscular than anything else. She had arched eyebrows and a smug look about her, making her all the more intimidating a sight. Like how Stahl's green armour complimented his hair and eyes, Sully's was a fiery red with white accents. Her armour was large, especially her chest piece, but to highlight her rather shapely female figure, she wore short black tights and had a long white cloth under her armour which she wore as a skirt.

"So these are the troops you picked up?" Frederick asked.

From behind her, two people dismounted the grey Pegasus. One was a man who was dressed _far_ too formally to be travelling on the road for a week, and they other was a small, thin girl, in a short dress with shorts and armour.

"Ah!" The man shouted, then spoke with a strange and thick accent, "Please, allow me to introduce myself."

He approached them with confidence and gusto, however instead of addressing Chrom or Frederick; he immediately ran to Lissa and kneeled in front of her. He had a dull silver shade of long, shoulder length hair, reminding Azrynne of the colour of steel, which was neatly styled with what looked to be gel. Matching the sharpness of his hair were his clothes and features. His face was long and his cheekbones were high and pronounced. His eyes were sharp and angled and were an icy blue, and his dapper clothing, which consisted of a white long sleeved shirt, a neat, blue and silver vest, expensive black pants and brown boots that were far too beautiful to be using as travel wear, complimented him kindly.

"My dear, you are a most heavenly sight…why, your blue eyes are most charming in the darkness of night, they twinkle beautifully against the fire-"

"_**NOT. HER.**_" Sully foot came crashing down against the man's head faster than anyone could even react to his advance. She stomp him once, then twice, then once again for good measure and kicked him away from Lissa.

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT FLIRTING TO THE BLONDE ONE?" Sully yelled at the man. The sheer volume of her voice made Azrynne want to hide.

"I-I apologize my lady! It was – well, it was only a mistake! I won't do it again! I promise!"

"Damn _RIGHT_ you better promise you piece of shit!" Sully kicked him again, just to be sure the message was sent. Azrynne had never been more intimidated in her life. She looked around and Stahl just shrugged at her, his expression saying _I told you so!_. Kellam sighed at the scene as if it was common practice, and while Lissa and Chrom look quite confused, Frederick had a look of utter satisfaction.

"This guy's name is Virion," Sully said to the group, "He's a damn perve but at least he's a good shot with a bow."

"Milady! Please, I would not think pervert an appropriate title for-" Virion stopped in his tracks the moment Sully turned to face him.

"This girl over here is Lilya. She's already a pretty decent Pegasus knight so Phila will probably want to talk to her to handle her training and stuff, see if she can get in the squad or something."

Lilya, the small girl, curtsied when introduced. She had peachy orange hair that reached her mid back, braided to avoid knots or frizzes while riding on her Pegasus. Her eyes were an amber colour and reminded Azrynne of the crystals. She had a gentle smile and a round face, and the way she held herself indicated a fine and polite upbringing and a certain type of gentleness. She wore a short, peachy dress that matched her hair in colour and had a variety of light armour clasped to her chest and arms, though not nearly as much as Stahl or Sully did. Expected, Azrynne thought, considering too much weight wouldn't do well for a creature that needed hollow bones to stay in air. She had white, thigh high boots with a little heel at the bottom, but they didn't do much for her in terms of height.

"It's nice to meet you." she said simply with a curtsy. Her voice was soft and gentle.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Lilya," Chrom said, shaking her hand, "And, uh. You too, Virion."

Virion dusted his clothes off and shook Chrom's hand as well, before his eyes caught sight of Azrynne. She felt a chill drop in her stomach and pre-emptedly took a step back. He approached her like he did Lissa, speaking feverishly.

"Oh! Milady! Please forgive me; I did not see you behind your green friend. What beautiful eyes you have! Their golden glow is most enticing, and they especially compliment your-"

Azrynne already had her tome out by the time he had approached her.

"Please don't." she said simply. She had hoped for no more strange antics, but Sully kicked him nonetheless. He crumpled at her feet and crawled away, whimpering _Women!_ in a hushed voice.

"You're a new face," Sully spoke as if nothing had happened, "From Southtown? Didn't think they had many people there who were really fighters."

"Uhm, no, I'm not from Southtown. It's…actually quite a bit of a tale. My name is Azrynne though. It's nice to meet you." Azrynne extended her hand, and Sully shook it with a grip that was _just_ too hard and strength that was _just_ too strong.

"Likewise. I'm Sully," Sully said, "So what's your story?"

Azrynne warily glanced at Chrom for a second. Was she just supposed to say that she was found in a field with no memory and that she was just going to potentially join there army now, or rather accompany them to their capital at the very least? Chrom did the talking for her though.

"We found Azrynne in a field near Southtown. She's lost her memory so we're taking her back to Ylisstol and she's going to join the Shepherds."

_Aptly put_ Azrynne thought, placing her palm against her forehead. Sully's eyes widened.

"Woah, uhm." She stepped back nervously, "Are you guys not seeing what I'm seeing?"

Realizing she had just publically broadcast her Plegian mark to all, Azrynne scolded herself. More trouble she could have avoided. This time, though, Chrom at least spoke right.

"She saved me, Sully," Chrom said, "Or at least prevented me great injury. She also assisted us greatly in a skirmish with bandits, as Stahl can vouch. Azrynne's no threat to us."

"That we know of." Frederick said briskly. Azrynne admitted that his distrust was still jarring. Sully had an expression that spoke the same as Frederick, though.

"I know how this looks," Azrynne said simply, "But I speak honestly when I say I don't know anything about my past. All I know is that I woke up on a field. I had a wound in my side and Lissa saved my life when she healed me. I would never betray the trust of the people who saved my life."

"Trust is a strong word." Frederick said tersely, and he left it at that.

"All I want to do is return the favour and maybe find some answers in your Capitol. No one recognised me in Southtown and there was nowhere else to go, so maybe someone could help me at Ylisstol. I don't know. I don't know about joining the Shepherds, it was just an offer. I don't know anything right now, really. I'm just trying to find my foothold again. Please believe me."

Sully glanced at Chrom, then at Stahl. They smiled at her. She looked at Lissa and Kellam and they smiled too. Frederick had already given his answer.

"Well…if these guys trust you then I guess…" Sully started, "Just don't start trouble, or you answer to this." She tilted her head to her lance. Azrynne simply nodded and Sully return to her horse to secure it with the others.

Tension clung to the air and Azrynne felt uncomfortable. Everyone sat by the fire in an awkward silence, and Azrynne thanked the stars above when Lissa accidentally swallowed a bug and started screeching at the top of her lungs. Soon, when activity faded and people started to sleep, Azrynne volunteered for first watch. Frederick insisted on joining her. She didn't have to wonder to know why.

Azrynne let her fingers outline the edge of her tome once again, an idle motion she did as she contemplated. Frederick didn't speak to her at all. Despite the sleeping people around her, she felt alone. The company of a cracking fire, an old sword and an unreadable tome gave her what little comfort she desired.

* * *

They had been on the road for five days now, and according to Chrom, were making enough speed to make it back to Ylisstol before night fell the next day. During this time, Sully made little effort to warm to Azrynne, distrust still abound the air – though she was civil enough to speak when spoken to and create no unneeded tension beyond her admittedly valid distrust. Lilya was also nice to talk to, but she seemed to be short of words. While she always wore a smile, the girl had little to say and didn't join them in campfire conversations or horseback banter. Of the three she had met on the road though, it was Virion who Azrynne found most interesting. He was charming in his own queer fashion, but not in the way that he had hoped women saw him. Instead, his attire fascinated her, and he often spoke of his home in a land across the sea that Azrynne thought sounded beautiful. The man had an aptitude for descriptions and stories, Azrynne knew that much.

Today, Azrynne rode with Chrom. He and Azrynne were yards ahead of the group, as Chrom often had a habit of paving direction for others to follow. Above them, Lilya flew on her Pegasus, only without Virion, who she had banned from even approaching her or her steed.

"Do you remember anything today, Azrynne?" Chrom asked her. He had made it habit to ask her this each day when they had the chance to speak, though Azrynne's answer always remained the same.

"Not today." she said softly. He nodded and they rode on quietly. The sun was setting, a beautiful golden and peach stain spreading across pastel blue and purple skies. What a beautiful day to remember, Azrynne thought, yet no luck would become of her. She thought to herself, trying to think again about her past, though like before nothing but dull clattering echoed throughout her mind.

"It feels very empty." she whispered unknowingly. Chrom turned his head to her but did not speak, and instead a solemn silence fell between the two. After a moment's peace, Chrom spoke again.

"I can't imagine your pain." he said. Azrynne nodded simply, though in ways she found that she disagreed with his assessment. Azrynne did not feel pain – she only felt emptiness. But perhaps, she thought bitterly, this emptiness _was_ her pain. Some nights, Azrynne found herself frustrated, not because she couldn't remember, but because the null, aching feeling of absolutely nothing disturbed her in more ways than one. In her mind, she had no friends. She had no mother, no father, no sisters or brothers. But somewhere out there, a woman wept for her lost daughter, and Azrynne felt sadder for the woman's loss than she did for her own. All she had from before were the dreams of a laughing man.

"I have dreams," Azrynne said, confiding in Chrom. He listened but did not speak. "I don't remember them well. They're clearer in my sleep, but are gone when I awaken. Sometimes I dream and sometimes I don't – but when I do, I dream the same thing."

"What do you dream of?" Chrom asked her softly.

"I don't remember." Azrynne admitted.

"Not even a single thought?" Chrom asked her. She shut her eyes tight and tried to recall.

"I know that they're the same. It's simply something I know." Azrynne said, "I dream of towers, I think. Towers, castles, lighting and death. And I think there is a man too, but I don't know his face. He laughs at me. And then I awaken."

"A curious dream," Chrom said to her, "You don't remember anything else?"

Azrynne thought carefully. The rolling of thunder was so clear to her, and she remembered lightning that was brighter than the sun itself. The more she thought, the more she saw the dark tower lighten, but only slightly. She thought of the laughing man, and for a second, she thought of another. But her head ached with a dimming roll that matched the thunder, and each time she thought she saw a face, she only saw lightning. Azrynne saw tendrils; red and black and blue and yellow. She thought of a man with dark hair, but instead of a face, she saw only black. When her head was raw with pain and the aching literally thundered through her temples, Azrynne removed the dream from her mind.

"Are you okay, Azrynne?" Worry laced Chrom's voice. Looking up, Azrynne saw the peach and cherry sky had darkened. Night was approaching, and only a few more minutes of travel remained before they made camp. Her mind thumped with an echoing pain, and when Azrynne reached up to massage her temples, she felt the cool touch of water against her cheeks. She hastily brushed them aside with the sleeve of her cloak.

"I'm fine," she replied sheepishly, "Simply lost in thought. I can't remember anything, Chrom." Somewhere in her voice, a lonely pain filtered through. She knew that Chrom could sense her tears.

"It's okay, Azrynne," Chrom said to her, "It will come with time."

Azrynne wasn't sure why she cried. She wondered how her lack of emotions could trigger such a reaction. Perhaps it was the pain of trying to remember, or something within her was so frustrated that it stirred some kind of physical reaction. She tried not to dwell on it.

"What's Ylisstol like?" Azrynne asked Chrom softly, deflecting the conversation to a different path.

"It's beautiful," Chrom said wistfully, "The most beautiful place I've ever seen. The buildings are designed beautifully, from the higher classed districts to even the lower classes. Ylissean architects strove day and night to build the city hundreds of years ago, when we first established our nation, and they've stood strong for all these years. We're known in particular for the Auteaul River that splits the city. The river is the only one that flows through Ylisse, Regna Ferox and Plegia, and Ylisstol is the only city built around it. Most other places, the river is too close to mountains or just not a good place to build a city.

"The people there are kind and generous. We Ylisseans abhor war or violence, and Ylisstol is a centre of this belief. Exalt Emmeryn instilled such beliefs in us. Ever since she ascended to the thrown eighteen years ago, Ylisse has truly changed as a nation. The people love her. As do I. She's the greatest leader we could ask for at this time."

"She sounds like a wonderful woman," Azrynne said, "And Ylisstol sounds beautiful."

They rode on a little further, taking in the darkening sky above them. It was only a while longer before they would stop to make camp. Chrom let the conversation simmer for a few minutes before continuing.

"Have you thought about my offer any more, Azrynne?" Chrom asked her.

Azrynne had. She thought about it every night, in fact. And every day she found more reason to accept.

On the second day, Azrynne rode her own horse with Lissa, and they bonded over discussions of magic and healing. That night, Azrynne went hunting with Lissa and Frederick, and having never understood offensive magic herself, Lissa took advice from Azrynne. Azrynne explained to her how to channel it, then how to release it. She had lent Lissa her tome, and Lissa burnt down a tree in the forest. Frederick suspended their weapons from them for the rest of the night.

On the third day, Azrynne rode with Virion, but despised it. While his glamorous stories of women and foreign countries were fascinating, the man wouldn't stop touching her. When Azrynne refused to remount her horse with Virion, and Lilya's Pegasus near killed the man when he had approached her, it was decided that Virion would ride with Frederick for the rest of the journey. Neither were pleased. She kept watch with Chrom that night, and they spoke about magic and swords and the thrill of battle for hours. She didn't have much to say about historic battles, but every time he spoke of a fight, Azrynne naturally found something to add the conversation, as if they were speaking of her own left hand. Their conversations soon turned to a battle of worded chess, and for every situation Chrom could think of Azrynne had a stronger counter.

On the fourth day, she rode with Kellam, who was better at listening than he was at speaking. But he listened to everything she had to say, and in a fleeting moment of weakness Azrynne admitted how she was scared about what laid before her when they reached Ylisstol. Kellam listened and Azrynne apologized, but was grateful nonetheless for his patience and kindness. She sparred with Sully that night, who was itchy for the training she couldn't get on the road. While at first, Sully overpowered her with sheer strength, Azrynne felt happy with herself when she managed to out-manoeuvrer Sully by using her own height and weight against her. It was a close victory, but a victory nonetheless; however Azrynne couldn't help but feel more than one set of distrusting eyes follow her across the campsite that night.

On the fifth day, Azrynne rode in the sky with Lilya for just a few minutes after begging her to let her try. It was exhilarating, but afterwards she thanked Lilya for not allowing her to stay longer, as while it was fun at first, Azrynne soon began to fear the height when it hit her just how high they really were. She rode with Chrom for the rest of the day. That night, she hunted with Stahl, and the two raced to see who could catch a deer first. Frederick scolded them when they brought back two, and no one was a victor that day.

Azrynne grew a found attachment to these people. She liked Stahl's happy-go-lucky nature. She liked how Kellam listened and spoke to her. She liked Virion's stories of grand adventures (despite his touching). She liked Lissa's kind and giving nature. She liked them all, and she hoped desperately with a hint of vanity that maybe they liked her as well. But for every reason Azrynne found that convinced her to accept Chrom's offer, the same doubts she had since the beginning were enough to make her reconsider.

Azrynne was unsure if Frederick hated her, or simply distrusted her. Or perhaps it was both, but he was short and cold to her in ways that were quite different from the shortness he had when speaking with others. She didn't blame him though. It saddened her, but she didn't blame him at all. He was kind enough to her, but he never let her keep watches alone, and she never hunted with Lissa or Chrom without him with them. Azrynne wished there was a way to prove her innocence. Instead all she had was a mauve marking on the back of her hand that had done nothing but provide her with all the evidence needed for an Ylissean to judge her guilty.

"I don't know, Chrom," Azrynne replied finally, "I have thought about it, I swear it. But these answers don't come so simply. I'm sure you'd feel the same in my position."

"I'm sure I would," Chrom said, "Being thrown into a whole new world you don't even know about…I'm sorry for the misfortune you've met, Azrynne. It's not something I'd wish upon anyone, regardless of your history."

"There's no need Chrom. There's nothing to apologize for. I'm simply glad that fate decided it was you who would find me and not people of a much lesser kindness." Azrynne said.

They rode on for a few more minutes in silence, but Azrynne felt agitating thoughts nagging away at the back of her head. She asked him in a soft voice, to make sure no one heard her.

"Do you think I can find a place here?"

Chrom didn't answer her straight away. Darkness was fast approaching; they would have to make camp soon. Chrom looked at the sky and stared at the moon for a moment, and Azrynne noticed it was full. Glistening among the fabric of clouds, shining stars began to appear and dot the sky. Chrom stopped their horse and dismounted, signalling to the others that they'd make camp here. He reached his hand out to her, and Azrynne took it. Helping her down, his eyes caught her own and he held his gaze.

"I don't know, Azrynne," he told her, "But there's no harm in finding out."

When the others had caught up with them, Chrom and Azrynne had already begun to unpack the convoy and secure their belongings so that Frederick could use the carriage for hunting. Falling into routine, Stahl and Frederick left to hunt a meal while Virion and Kellam began to start the campfire. Azrynne sat with Lilya, hoping to find respite from her thoughts in a conversation with the quiet girl.

"You come from Baiyon Garden?" Azrynne asked her.

"Yes, and no. I am a traveller, but I found a home in the Gardens for the past few months." Lilya replied as she warmed her tiny hands against the fire. Azrynne nodded and pushed on.

"What made you decide to become a Shepherd?" she asked.

"Several things, but one in particular," Lilya said softly, "In the past I had made a living out of being a sellsword, but I think I could find more respectable occupations in Ylisstol. It never felt right to take from the villagers I had fought to defend. I want to give my sword to Emmeryn, and perhaps be of more noble use to my country."

She was short and sweet, and her tone left not much room for continued discussion. They had all learned quickly that Lilya was not one for words, often speaking only when spoken to, and replying curtly but respectfully. Azrynne wondered how much more she could try to engage the girl before she became a nuisance. She thought to at least try to extend her hand in good faith.

"What a noble cause, Lilya." It was Kellam who spoke then, who had sat next to her.

"Thank you." she said curtly, and thus the signal to end discussion with Lilya was given for the night.

The group chatted idly, waiting for Frederick's and Stahl's return, which was not well received at all when they had come back with a bear for supper that tasted of charred and thick moss. Azrynne didn't mind, and ate it happily. Quiet discussion rippled through the mismatched band as people began to drift to sleep. Stahl spoke to Kellam, admiring his fierce determination and silent poise in the heat of battle, but Kellam refuted him nervously. Azrynne caught words from Virion's advances towards Sully and smiled as she rejected him once more, though the man was never one to give up. She tried to hear more, but couldn't past the crackling of fire. Chrom whispered with Lissa in hushed tones that Azrynne caught no word of, but the siblings were close and happy, it seemed, pouting and teasing.

From across the fire, Azrynne caught sight of Frederick's chocolate eyes. Their gaze locked, and Azrynne felt unable to move. His eyes were cold, no warmth for her that he had for Lissa or Chrom. He didn't seem angry though, or even threatening – instead his eyes met hers with a type of judgement, as if the glare of fire against gold was enough for him to judge her worth. She wanted to smile, or to let her eyes smile for her, but her mouth was frozen in a neutral position and all she did was allow the glow of red to light her features. She nervously blinked and looked down, averting his gaze for a moment, but when she returned he was lying next to Lissa, eyes closed and body still, as if asleep. Within moments, the whole camp became still with slumber. Only Chrom and Azrynne remained awake, but even he refuted her.

"Sleep, Azrynne. I can serve watch tonight." he said.

And indeed, she did feel the nagging of sleep approach her, so as much as she wanted to remain awake, Azrynne simply nodded and lay down. She watched the fire for a moment, and through it saw Chrom's blue figure twitching and waving against the heat. Azrynne closed her eyes and hoped for a peaceful sleep, and against Chrom's blue figure did she once again dream briefly of golden swords and laughing men. When she woke though, she saw neither.

A scream cracked through the air, so high pitched and desperate that the shock of waking sent Azrynne's heart into a spiralling beat. Eyes blurred and ears echoing of the sounds of a screaming girl, Azrynne's mind woke faster than her body. As she hurried to her feet, she already saw figures of red and green preparing for battle, and when her eyes finally focused she saw Frederick, lance in hand, riding away from them fast and armourless on his mount.

A tremor rocked the ground beneath them and Azrynne fell, hitting the ground with a sudden and strong force. She heard more screaming, the high pitched wails of a girl, and though she desperately tried time and again to climb to her feet against the trembling ground, she found no such success. The horses screamed and clattered against each other, trying to pull away from where they had been tied. She heard more yelling, though unlike the girl's, these came from beside her, and soon she realized what everyone was desperately trying to stand and escape as well.

There was no sight of Frederick, who had desperately sprinted away. His armour clattered and vibrated against the ground. Sully had fallen, and between the chaos of the thundering ground and the shrill cries of their horses, Kellam tried to pull her up. She saw Virion steadying himself against a tree, grasping at braches tightly to remain upright. Stahl had fallen next to her, and though her belongings remained, Azrynne couldn't catch sight of Lilya or her Pegasus.

A thundering crack split the sky above them open. The end of the world was upon them, Azrynne thought, and the grouped stared with disbelieving eyes as the cracked sky opened to reveal something akin to an eye staring down at their mortal souls. Decorated with the familiar words of magical incantations, the crack's insides warped and twisted with the familiarity of dark magic. They watched, mesmerized, as the words became hot, white as fire, and from the centre of the circle of light fell creatures that Azrynne thought more terrifying than whatever mere mortal men's nightmares could come to conjure.

For a moment, the thundering of the ground stopped. Blackened blobs of wispy smoke and magic fell before the group. There was a strange elegance to them – they hit the ground softly, as if it was only water, and their shape contracted to that of a misty puddle. Azrynne desperately reached for her tome as the shadow approached them. As it came closer still, what was once a misty puddle soon became long, dreary limbs of some unknown creature. The others reached for weapons as well, nervously retreating from the mysterious threat. From puddle to limbs, then to a shambling body with a broken face, Azrynne thought that death itself had come to welcome her. She never thought, though, that she could be so correct.

It was a disgusting sight. Its arms were too long for its body, and its fingers too bony and sharp to be any less dangerous than Azrynne's own blade. It looked somewhat human, but was more of a nightmare than an actual living thing. Where there should have been a stomach, Azrynne saw the open and raw churning of the creature's intestines. Where there should have been legs, Azrynne saw long, shambling things that could barely support the creature's weight, turn from limb to shadow, limb to shadow, again, and again, and again. Where there should have been a face, Azrynne saw a hooded thing, stitches sewn across its broken mouth, eyes sunken and bloody, peaking from torn holes in its hood, and a chunk of its skull had broken away to reveal the raw insides of a blackened brain.

Stiffening, everyone watched as the creature approached. With a harsh and unearthly scream, it raised it arms above its head and sunk them into the ground. Virion fired an arrow at it, but black smoke absorbed his attack where it hit, and it screamed again, un-phased. Azrynne saw the creature's bony fingers dissolve into a black liquid, seeping into the ground. Within moments, the ground shook again, and with a scream, Azrynne saw Sully fall as a deathly body rose from the earth beneath her and grab at her legs.

It was like a collective shockwave had moved everyone into attack. Deathly figures rose from the ground, screeching and trembling as they attacked. Realizing with a shock to her heart, the screams of the girl in the distant registered in her mind as Lissa's. Kellam sank the head of his lance into the deathly thing that gripped at Sully, splitting its head in two. Black blood sprinkled their clothing. Behind her, Stahl slashed another in half, blood pouring from its gut. Azrynne felt a scream pushing against her throat, but she choked it down. Her blood pressure increased, her heart was beating erratically, and her mind trembled from place to place. Scanning around, she already saw three – no, four – no, five, and more fast approaching persons of death climbing from the ground. Virion shot arrows, Sully and Kellam fought back to back, and Stahl backed against her, trembling.

Azrynne closed her eyes. She breathed in heavily, and air flowed from her lungs shakily as she cleared her mind. Time had slowed down for just a moment. She guided her eyes from one deathly creature to another. One, two, three, four…Azrynne counted six creatures appearing from the ground. They shambled and smelt of death, but their appearance was human – at least, much more human than the thing that had fallen from the sky. She stared at the wispy black creature, its fingers still seeping into the ground. She let intuition take her hand, and her tome opened in front of her, her actions guided by a natural force within.

Chanting, Azrynne's eyes glowed as a stream of light burst from her palm. It wrapped around the deathly creature, soaking it in a warm bath of rays. It screamed again, claws retracting from the ground and stumbling away from her. Azrynne heard herself yelling with a voice of command.

"_Attack it now!_"

She didn't know why they listened. She didn't know why they cared. But within a second of her order, three arrows shot into the creature head. A javelin protruded from its abdomen. And finally, Stahl ran at it, and with a clean strike, he took its head off. And while they all followed her command, Azrynne found herself sending bolts of electricity against two risen creatures near Virion. Sully took down two more beside her and Kellam, tearing them in half. Once the leader had fallen, the other two fell as well, one to an arrow, and another by Stahl's blade.

There was a brief moment of silence as the group stared at each other, dumbstruck. Hearts beat in unison; a thousand beats per minute. Dead bodies, raised then fallen once again, lay lifeless at their feet, black pools of blood smearing across the ground. Before anyone could speak though, the ground shook once more and Azrynne heard Lissa's scream, accompanied by Chrom's voice. The crack above them blinked, and Azrynne saw another wispy shadow emerging.

Everyone ran and desperately began to put on their armour. Kellam and Sully assisted each other, Virion strapped his leather chest plate on, and Stahl fumbled with his own. As Azrynne went to help him, Lissa screamed again and Stahl shouted at the group.

"Go to them! Now!" he yelled.

Already armoured and mounted, Sully nodded. She grabbed Virion's hand as he reached for her and they rode off in Frederick's direction. Next to them, Kellam wore all of his armour, and choosing the burliest horse; he quickly calmed the animal then mounted with a quick glance towards Stahl and Azrynne.

"We'll follow soon!" she assured him, and he nodded and rode away.

Stahl's chest plate secured around him, and Azrynne reached for his leg armour. As she did though, the ground shook again and both Stahl and Azrynne crashed into the ground. From the ground, he desperately reached and clasped whatever he could find onto his legs, arms, neck, anything, and Azrynne, on her knees, helped tighten and secure. A black, wispy figure fell behind them, another disgusting creature with long, broken limbs and a mutilated face. It screamed at them as it approached, faster than the last, and when it had come too close Azrynne screamed and threw herself over Stahl, pulling them away.

The shaking ground split beside them and they landed hard against the rocks and the creature screamed next to them. Azrynne opened her tome quickly, desperately ripping out three pages at once and slamming them into the creature's chest with a shriek. With an explosion of light, the thing screamed and blew apart, blood splattering against Stahl and herself. Her hand was thick with a musky black blood. Stahl stood and helped her up, but the ground arched in retaliation and broke apart under them, felling them once more.

Azrynne fell hard on her back, a sharp rock knocking the wind from her lungs. Above her, the cracking sky's eye stared down at her with a disturbing silence. She saw a black pupil emerging once more, another creature descending. Without thinking, Azrynne ripped a lightning page from her book.

"_Mjolnir!_" her screamed echoed into the night, and a bolt of lightning shot from her palm and into the eye. The sky cracked and screeched, and as if crying, closed as bolts of magic began to fall. Azrynne still saw the tears and rips above her, but the light had dissipated now, replaced with the spiralling auras of dark magic weaving through the sky. The ground shook violently beneath her, splitting apart, and with terror did Azrynne realize that what she thought was the moon was in fact another eye, and that dozens more had overtaken the sky. A shout drew her attention away from the heavens and back to earth.

Desperately crawling to her knees, Azrynne looked around for Stahl, seeing no trace of him. The horses had all but loosened themselves and run away, and the very ground around their former campsite was cracking and breaking beneath her. At the edge of a growing chasm, Azrynne saw a set of arms peaking atop the cracks. She ran towards Stahl as fast as her legs would carry her.

He clung to the edge with difficulty, grasping at rocks as they fell beneath him and into the liquid flames that spewed from the centre of the earth. Stahl desperately looked at Azrynne, gripping the ground with one arm and reaching for her with another. The edge faltered and the ground shook again, and before he could fall away with the breaking earth, Azrynne lunged for him and desperately clung to his arm. She pulled him towards her, back to high ground, and she saw his legs urgently kick and try to find traction against the chasm. She reached down his back, gripping the edge of the bottom of his chest plate. She pulled, she heaved, she did everything her body allowed her, and slowly did Stahl manage to crawl out of the abyss and back to flattened ground.

Before they could even draw breath, the ground heaved together and Stahl pulled her to her feet and they ran as fast and as far as they could from the clashing of wall against wall as lava erupted from the abyss. Grabbing swords along the way, the two clung and supported each other as they sprinted towards the direction that the others had left them.

The forest around them was lit ablaze. Burning branches fell left and right, and it was all Azrynne could do but summon wind magic to protect herself and Stahl from the flames. She felt herself weaken – the lightning spell she had cast before took too much from her. She ran on adrenaline strictly, but even that was beginning to wear thin. With every spell Azrynne conjured, her knees weakened, her arms faltered, and eventually, she fell altogether.

"Azrynne!" Stahl screamed. He desperately pulled at her, helping her to her feet. Azrynne couldn't breathe. Too much smoke, too much fire, too much magic. He put one arm around her to support her, and they trudged through the forest, Azrynne still doing what little she could to deflect the flames from them.

Was it lady luck who smiled upon them at that moment? Or perhaps the gods finally felt pity for the destruction they had sent down to the earth below them. Regardless of what fate or coincidence had in plan for them, Azrynne felt grateful nonetheless when they saw one of the escaped horses trapped against a tree, its reigns stuck on the branches. Stahl loosened it and desperately tried to calm her, though to no avail. It was difficult, but eventually he managed to throw Azrynne on the mare and mounted it behind her. Gripping Azrynne with one arm and the reigns with another, Stahl dashed out of the burning forest and towards the sound of blades and screams, which Azrynne realized belonged to her group.

Azrynne was conscious enough to feel a bag pressing against her leg, strapped to the mare's saddle. Reaching in, she grabbed an elixir and drank its contents, juices seeping from her lips and staining her face and clothes as they rode roughly against the horse. Almost instantly, she felt rejuvenated, and passed the remainders to Stahl, who drank it messily. The hoof beats of their mare matched the thundering of the skies around them, and Azrynne eventually noticed that the ground had ceased to shake. Now away from the burning forest, Stahl and Azrynne reached a clearing that abruptly cut into a cliff side, and from the edge they stopped their mare and stared at the battlefield below.

Azrynne spotted Chrom, twenty feet below them and twenty feet away, slashing at another black and mutilated beast with his glowing, golden sword. Various sparse trees around him burned with a white hot fire. Frederick fought armourless atop his steed, slashing at the dead and the falling creatures alike. She saw that Lissa clung to him on his horse, gripping her staff tightly as green wisps of healing wind fogged the air around them. A few feet away, Virion stood atop an old, broken building, firing arrows at not only the creatures around them, but also at the eyes in the sky above. Occasionally, one shut, only to open again moments later. And at the very corner, Azrynne saw Sully and Kellam fighting side by side, back to back, swinging lances in perfect co-ordination as they fell handful of the dead at a time. They fought on foot, and not two metres away did Azrynne see their fallen steeds.

Stahl pulled at the mare's reigns and turned them to the side, following the cliff to see if there was a way down. Azrynne gripped his wrists and stopped him.

"What are you doing?" he shouted as the mare stopped in her tracks.

"Wait! We'll get down there faster if we jump!" Azrynne yelled back. Stahl looked at her as if she was a crazy woman.

"We'll also _die_ if you didn't realize!" He yelled, jerking the reigns away from her. She gripped at his wrists again and stopped the horse.

"No, we won't! Just listen to me!" Azrynne yelled.

"No! You've gone insane!" He yelled back.

"It'll take too long if we go around!" Azrynne screamed at him. She stared at his eyes, gold meeting emerald, and begged, "_Please_, just _trust_ me!"

And trust her he did. At first with a look of anger, Stahl conceded and sighed, and his green eyes swelled with a trust for her that Azrynne never thought she could gain from anyone in this world. She directed him towards the edge of the forest and told him to gallop towards the edge. As they looked towards the edge of the cliff, Azrynne opened her tome and turned to her desired page. She heard Stahl's rough and heavy breathing behind her.

"I hope you know what you're doing." He said. She hoped that she did as well.

"Aim for the big ones." she said, and with a crack of the reigns, their mare galloped fast and head first towards the edge of the cliff.

It was nothing like being on a Pegasus, Azrynne thought. For the few minutes she had ridden with Lilya, Azrynne felt not only a slight fear, but also excitement and a rush of adrenaline. Here, though, in the sky, atop a horse with no wings and more than twenty feet from the ground, Azrynne felt only fear.

Their horse soared across two metres, three metres, fast approaching six. Twenty feet in the air turned to fifteen, then ten, and even amongst the cracking of fire and the screeches of blade against blade, Azrynne knew that every set of living eyes had focused on them and disbelief filled the air. She wouldn't let them die though – not today. Today, they would live on yet.

She ripped two papers from her tome, yelling their enchantments, and a gust a strong wind enveloped their mount. As they fell, ever closer to a horde of dead risen creatures that had grouped clumsily around Chrom, the wind grew stronger and Azrynne felt the pressure pushing back against their steed. Her second spell split the air around them, and while the wind protected them and cushioned their fall, a tornado of flames spread across the field as they smashed their horse against the mutilated creatures, setting them aflame and pushing them away.

From the flurry of wind and fire, Azrynne and Stahl emerged and immediately began to attack. Sweeping from the side of the mare, Stahl's sword impaled five creatures at once, while Azrynne's did the same on the other. Around them, Azrynne saw dazed stares that quickly turned to determination and fire as more of their risen enemies fell to sword, lance and magic.

A black creature appeared in front of them, and startled, their mare turned too fast and Azrynne felt herself falling. The wind of her lungs escaped her lips as she hit the ground, and before she knew it, the creature had appeared above her, long, black claws ready to strike. She reached but felt no tome, no sword, and when all seemed lost as the claws fell down, Chrom's golden sword struck the demon's head and it disintegrated, leaving only blood and shadows.

Azrynne got up to her feet and turned to thank Chrom, but instead saw a different blue haired man. This one was thinner, with a build that was made for precision, skill and speed, not raw strength. He had short, dark blue hair, not quite unlike Chrom's, though his was much neater, held back by a golden diadem atop his head. His attire was mostly blues and reds, neat and streamlined and with nary a stain or scratch upon him. He wore black pants tucked into long, thigh-high boots with iron armour strapped around his legs, shoulders and chest. His most distinguishing feature though was his face – or rather, the mask that hid it. Blue and black in colour and intricate in design, his eyes were obscured by a pretty butterfly mask.

Azrynne had no time to thank her defender, and instead nodded at him and quickly scrambled to where her sword and tome had fallen. She fastened her tome to her belt, which had a special design that kept her tome on her body but still allowed it to be opened for its magic to be called upon. Gripping her sword, she returned to the heat of the battle, striking down what she could, when she could. A dead man lunged at her with a lance, and she quickly sidestepped and summoned a fireball for him. Another approached behind her, a thick, unruly man in heavy armour – he swung his lance at her as Azrynne stepped back. His lance stabbed the ground at her feet, and using his moment's delay she ran up the length of his lance and stabbed her sword into his skull.

His lifeless body fell as Azrynne rode it to the ground. Withdrawing her sword from his skull, another dead man approached her, but before she could react and arrow pierced his skull and he too fell against his armoured friend. Azrynne shouted thanks at Virion and ran towards the remaining straddlers of dead and monsters.

Behind Chrom, a black, fallen creature approached him. Azrynne reached for a page of her tome and shot bolts of lightning at it before felling it with her sword. Chrom nodded thanks before beheading another dead man, and when she looked around it seemed as though all of their threats had now lay dead. Another shriek echoed across the sky. Azrynne looked up and saw the cracking eyes in the sky closing one by one until only one remained. Above her, three more creatures fell and the crack closed, dark magic sewing the sky shut.

Azrynne glanced at Chrom. Their eyes met, blue and gold, and somehow Azrynne felt a natural connection. Without a thought, without a word, without even a gesture, they turned and attacked the three fallen beasts around them. The three beasts circled them, one behind Azrynne and two beside Chrom.

Azrynne ripped a page of wind magic from her tome and impaled the monster behind her with a sword of ice. Ducking, she ran towards Chrom with sword in hand as he jumped above her and killed the beast she had frozen. Sliding under him, Azrynne cut open another one's stomach before lighting it on fire. Using the momentum of her spell, she gripped her blade and swung it against the last beast to her right as Chrom ducked to avoid her sword. She swung her blade full circle, hitting the last beast and coming back around to behead the one she had set on fire. From his kneeling position, Chrom gripped his blade and struck the final beast from bottom to head, splitting it in half. Within seconds, all three creatures fell.

Her heartbeat thundered against her chest. Azrynne heard nothing, only the beating of her heart, the heavy breaths she desperately tried to take in, and the dull ringing that came from the fires, blades and magic. Looking above her, the sky had returned to black and the moon was still full, a white circle staring drearily down at them from the heavens. Azrynne looked around her; dead men fell everywhere, soaking in black blood. The bodies of the strange creatures from the sky were gone, not even a shadow left from where they had fallen. Azrynne saw the group huddle shakily together, still dazed and dumbstruck by the events of the night.

Lissa leapt off her horse and ran to Kellam, supported by Sully. He had a tear in his leg, but it was nothing Lissa couldn't fix with some vulnerary paste and her healing staff. Virion was fine, though his clothing was far from dapper now, looking brown and blackened from blood and dirt. He walked with a slight limp, though it wasn't enough to slow him down. Frederick was still astride his mount – the only one of the group whose horse still lived. Stahl, shaken with armour half missing, fell to the floor, chest heaving. Azrynne looked around – they were missing someone. Before any worry could string across her heart though, Azrynne heard the wing beats of a Pegasus and Lilya and her mount descended next to Frederick.

"Is everyone unharmed?" she asked. Disheartened and tired replies returned to her.

"Where were you?" Frederick asked her, removing his charred tie.

"Ikra was restless during the night, so I flew with her to calm her," Lilya explained, "I heard someone scream, so I tried to return as swiftly as possible, but strange beings fell from the sky and delayed my return."

"How far out did you go?" Chrom asked her.

"Not far – perhaps only a few miles. Why?" Lilya replied.

"Did you head towards the Capitol?" Chrom asked her, face stern. The realization hit her. Lilya nodded curtly.

"I did. I saw them fall, too. Many of them. I wouldn't doubt they fell near Ylisstol as well." Lilya said with a grim voice. Chrom nodded solemnly.

"I understand," he said.

"What were those things?" Azrynne asked, still drawing heavy breath. No one had an answer for her, everyone lost in confusion and fatigue.

"Are there any more of those…creatures, nearby?" Chrom asked.

"No," a voice replied, "None remain."

The voice belonged to the masked man. Azrynne looked at him with curiosity. Where did he come from? Was he a Shepherd, as well? Who was he? Her questions would one day be answered, come the time – but the time was not now. He appeared to the group from the shadow of an extinguished tree, just along the edge of the burnt forest.

"Thank you," Lissa said to the man, "You saved my life," The man said nothing in return, only nodding in acknowledgement. Lissa continued, "You were very brave."

"You saved my sister's life," Chrom said. He approached the man and extended his hand, "For that, I owe you the world."

The man did not take Chrom's hand. Chrom left it there awkwardly for a moment before withdrawing it. He cleared his throat.

"My name is Chrom. Might I ask yours?" he said.

The man spoke back in a clear voice, "You may call me Marth."

"After the King of old?" Stahl asked from behind him. Marth didn't respond.

"You fight like the hero legends describe him to be," Chrom said, "Where did your learn your way with a sword, friend?" Marth raised his hand, as if to cease discussion.

"I am no friend to you all tonight, merely a stranger. I have not come here for idle chatter or personal revelations, but rather to bear a warning for you, your country, and your entire world." he said. Chrom stiffened, but listened regardless.

"Tonight marks the beginning of calamity. Your world teeters on annihilation, and the actions which you take from henceforth onwards will determine your fate. Tonight is but a prelude to the chaos that awaits you."

Chills slid down Azrynne's back. She wasn't sure what to make of this man – he seemed friendly enough at first, but now a new cloak of mystery and forebode clouded his already masked features. Azrynne could tell that a similar chill also swept through the minds of every other person among their group. She stared at the man, and for a second, she swore that he stared back. Azrynne felt fearful.

"You have been warned." he said, and from the shadows he came did he also disappear.

"Wait!" Chrom said, reaching to following him. Before he could go, Frederick dashed after him on his horse. They waited for him to return in silence, a cold chill embracing the group in the dead of night. Only the moon and a few still burning trees gave them light to see. After minutes that seemed like hours, Frederick returned empty-handed.

"What did he mean?" Lissa said softly, "The beginning of calamity?"

"Whatever he meant, it didn't sound good." Sully said next to Kellam, still supporting him against her.

"Quite the shadow master," Frederick said, "Though I feel as though we will see more of him in the future."

'I only hope that he will appear to us as a friend." Chrom said simply, and with that, he drew his attention away from the man.

"We should make haste to the Capitol, milord." Frederick said. Everyone nodded and murmured agreement. Only Azrynne stood there, quiet as a mouse, listening rather than speaking and still deep in thought about the night's mysteries.

"We should make haste." Chrom said, and with that, everyone picked up what remained of their belongings and began the march to the Capitol. Unlike when they had begun their journey though, instead of five horses, they had one, and instead of a caravan full of supplies, they only had the armour on their backs and the swords at their sides. Azrynne lead them with Chrom, lighting the way with her fire magic while Frederick took the rear on his steed. It took them all night and all day, but when they finally reached sunset of the next day, the Capitol of Ylisse loomed above them.

Azrynne would have been astounded by the beauty of Ylisstol, but instead, all she had were thoughts of mutilated faces and risen undead. Instead of taking in the beauty of peach and cherried skies, she saw black eyes fade to burning white, and the cold wisps of shadows and darkness around her. No one spoke as they journeyed for hours to the great city. They rested not even once. Yet sleep was the furthest thing from their minds, as even the slightest hint of fatigue brought with it the thought of undead demons and black intestines.

When she finally had time to rest, hours after arriving in Ylisstol and meeting with the Exalt Emmeryn herself, Azrynne found herself unable to sleep. Instead of laughing men, all she saw were undead demons. She wondered if the others dreamt of them as well.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

As I said above, I've changed the rating for this story from T to M. After much consideration, I decided that a lot of the themes I want to delve into through the course of this story might be more appropriate under a more mature rating. I hope this doesn't discourage many of you from continuing to read. Edit: After some feedback from Knowledgeseeker66, I've decided to keep the rating at T until the chapters that are actually M appear instead of changing the rating pre-emptively.

I had difficulty with the length of this one. Again, there was one final section I wanted to include in the chapter but decided to push to the next. With this chapter, I wanted to explore more of Azrynne's personality and set foundations for relationships between characters – but I also didn't want it to be long and boring. I made sure everything I kept in this final version was actually necessary for the flow of the story – I hope you all agree. Feedback on the length would be greatly appreciated; I apologize if you found it too long.

Finally, for any of you acquainted with tumblr, I made a blog for this story where I can post more detailed chapter notes if anyone is interested since I don't want to clog up the Author's Notes section. There are no future spoilers there; all I created it for was to show you how OCs looked and my thought process behind each chapter. The blog is called histories-and-time, and I hope you can take time to check it out. If you don't know how to look up tumblr blogs the url is histories-and-time dot tumblr dot com (replacing dot with a fullstop as I can't add URLs to chapters).

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	4. Gods Don't Tend to Sheep

** Gods Don't Tend to Sheep**

_Azrynne_

The beat of searing sun rays seemed almost unbearable as they trekked through Ylisse's countryside. Every tree brought them an overwhelming feeling of relief, and while she wanted to stay under their shady boughs for longer, Azrynne marched on with the rest of the Shepherds, determined not to fall behind. They had travelled for a little under a day, foregoing any extended stops or rests in favour of a quick return to their beloved Capitol, thoughts of dread clouding each step – and when they had arrive to the outskirts of Ylisse's fair heart, they were tired and dirty and hot, worse for wear than even the blear-eyed and hardworking farmers who stopped and stared occasionally at the returning Shepherds; though most favoured their lands over Azrynne's mismatched group of soldiers.

Among sparse few plots of farmland and gated cattle and sheep, Azrynne notice the burns of magic against fence posts and gashes of unkempt land, doubtless to be where small boughts of war broke out the night before between monstrosities and poor, simple farmers. An unsettling feeling of forebode gripped at her gut, and while at times she saw sights of disheveled lands and men, nothing stopped their now slowed journey towards the Capitol. There were moments when her eyes drifted away from the sight of broken farmlands and towards Frederick, or Lissa, or Chrom, and each of them wore the same look of defeat and sympathy for the poor men who clawed desperately at their broken homes, rakes and sickles unabashed in dirt and mud.

Azrynne was grateful when sunset reached them, though kept her subtle sigh of relief hidden from the others, not wanting to draw attention. While underneath her black cloak there was the stick of sweat and grime, she chastised herself softly, for it was instead Kellam, Sully, Stahl and Frederick who had the worst to bear upon their backs; straps of leather belts and linings fastened tightly against potted armour that must have broiled under the sun as they marched, horseless and exhausted after their nightlong battle. How she longed to fly with Lilya's Pegasus, who danced so freely in the clouds and wind that Azrynne almost felt sorry for the poor girl's little clothing, barely enough to cover her chilled and cloud-moistened skin.

It was a quiet journey, with no one quite willing enough to initiate any kind of conversation. It was almost as if the very disappearance of those strange dead-eyed and blackened creatures into the sky had taken with them their voices as well. There were times when muttered orders were given by Chrom or Frederick, but it was never more than an indication of which direction to go or whether they were dallying for too long. Strangely though, while the silence was discomforting at times (especially those in which foggy figures of blackened organs falling from the sky all but swarmed her thoughts), there were times too in which she found their quiet state of peace to be rather welcome. There was no forced effort on anyone's part to speak when, in fact, no one quite wanted to.

It was sunset when Azrynne first caught glimpse of Ylisstol's towering walls and cream-and-blue buildings across the horizon. For the hour they had walked past farmlands and livestock, Azrynne felt an unease rise within the group of Shepherds, their longing to return home almost as evident as the blood and mud spattered against their armour. _Only a half hour_, Azrynne guessed as the towering buildings loomed over them even more so, and small market buildings and homes soon revealed themselves across the horizon. She wondered how busy the markets would be, or perhaps the lower class districts, or maybe even the slums; whichever district they would wander into first as they reached the city. Perhaps it would take them an hour to wade their way through, but if Chrom's predictions were correct, she wondered if the panicked state of the Capitol would stall them even longer still into the darkness of night. Admittedly, Azrynne disliked the thought, for she had enough of cold nights and darkness – a cozy nest beside a fire would be enough to please her soul. It was with that thought though that something important struck her mind.

Looking around, Azrynne saw that their group had already stretched across the roadside, some trailing ahead and others behind. Azrynne walked with no one in particular; behind her she saw Sully, Virion and Kellam lagging, and just ahead were Lissa and Frederick, the only ones still mounted aside from Lilya, who flew far above them. Stahl too lagged just between herself and Frederick, and ahead, as determined as he was the moment their battle had ended, was Chrom, leading them forward. With a quick breath, Azrynne jogged to his side, but not without a brief glance at Frederick, who somehow knew just when to stare back at her. She brushed him aside and slowed by Chrom's side.

"Chrom." She said as she approached. He turned curiously to acknowledge her, then back ahead when she joined him at his side. He muttered a soft greeting.

"I don't mean to bother or pry," Azrynne said softly, "but you never told me where we were going. Well…where I was going."

Chrom glanced at her briefly with a slight air of confusion.

"We go to the Capitol, Azrynne." He said. Azrynne nodded briskly.

"Yes, we do. But where in the Capitol do I find my place?" she asked him. Chrom nodded at her question, contemplating it for just a moment.

"Do you remember my offer, Azrynne?" Chrom asked her as he turned his head, "To join the Shepherds?"

Pressing her lips together, Azrynne nodded as Chrom stared at her. He stopped suddenly, and it took Azrynne a few steps before she too joined him, turning around to stare back. They were a few dozen yards away from the others, but they noticed nonetheless. Azrynne looked quizzically at Chrom, whose bright blue eyes bore into her when he said, "And?"

Azrynne felt awkward as she looked beyond Chrom, only to catch confused or even worried looks from the rest of their group. She kicked the sanded pathway under her feet and looked away from all of them, too uncomfortable and nervous to meet anyone in the eye.

"Why do you want me to join your band of soldiers so much?" she asked Chrom.

"I want to help you, Azrynne." He said simply.

"You can't help me as I am?" Azrynne asked, meeting his eyes again. They were calm and spoke to her as true as his words.

"I could," he said softly as Frederick and Lissa stopped beside them as they caught up, "but I could also give you a home to return to should your search bear no fruit."

It was only fleeting, but for a brief second Azrynne felt a desire to laugh. This man who stood before her, a soldier in a country in some kind of stalemate war against another, offering a woman clad in that country's attire a home in his Capitol? The very notion was preposterous, outrageous, and most of all, absolutely hilarious. Azrynne wondered for just a moment if perhaps _she_ was in fact some kind of royal or noblewoman, and this was all an elaborate ploy by Chrom the Cruel Mercenary and his right hand crook Frederick to have a final few days of maniacal fun before they slaughtered her where she stood. But the thought subsided as soon as it emerged, because while the story itself rang all kinds of theatrical cues for laughter, the honesty in Chrom's eyes spoke otherwise. A distant touch of heartfelt gratitude resinated in the pit of her gut.

"You…are truly a good man, Chrom." Azrynne said softly in reply.

"You not only saved my life once, Azrynne, but twice, and also the lives of everyone who stands here now." Chrom said. Before Azrynne could protest though, Chrom silenced her and continued, "Your part in last night's battle was essential. Who knows what turn of events could have soured our victory?"

At his words, Azrynne glanced quickly behind him to see the others had grouped around them also, and she met Stahl's green eyes for just a brief second. It was as if they were a gateway to another time; when their eyes had locked Azrynne remembered the heat of red molten rock around them, the screams of horses and the cracking of the sky, and Stahl's eyes stared at hers with a pleading against a broken abyss. And in the moment she remembered did it all but fade away, and Stahl smiled at her warmly, a gentle nod thrown her way. Azrynne returned his sentiments and looked back to Chrom.

"I…" she muttered softly, "You flatter me greatly, Chrom."

"Flatter? No, Azrynne. I simply speak true words. To you, my friend, I want to offer a home. How else can we repay our debt?" Chrom smiled at Azrynne and outstretched his arms, gesturing at the soldiers who grouped behind him. While she had sensed tension before in both Sully and Frederick, at Chrom's words it was almost as if he had calmed all tides of doubt. She saw a sparkle in Kellam's eyes, a smile from Stahl and a heartfelt, giddy hoorah from Lissa. From Virion she saw a smirk, and even Sully and Frederick nodded briskly at her before averting their gazes. Above her she saw Lilya circle them with her Pegasus, but doubtless too would she have agreed with their sentiments. Azrynne smiled, waves of gratitude brushing against her heart.

"Thank you, Chrom," she said, "If my search bears no fruit…then I would be honoured to call myself a Shepherd."

"Good," Chrom said, resting a strong hand atop her shoulder, "then a more precise destination is something I can now give to you. We go the Ylisstol's castle. I want my sister to meet my new friends." He then gestured across to Virion and Lilya, who smiled back. As he began to walk away though, Azrynne cocked her head to the side in curiosity.

"Your sister lives in the _castle_?" Azrynne asked, bemused.

"Where else would the Exalt live, milady?" Frederick said briskly as he and Lissa trotted away from her. It was only at the back of her mind that she registered everyone walking ahead of her, however her main concern was the connection that she had made fair too late to be appropriate. It wasn't until they had stepped a few paces ahead that Chrom turned back to her, staring once again.

Perhaps it was the way he spoke to his fellow soldiers that clouded her judgement, or maybe even the fact that he walked among the common people as though he was one of them also – but never did it even cross her mind that Chrom could be a nobleman – no, a _royal _man, not just any royal man, but a Prince in all his glory. And Lissa! So bold, boisterous and loud she was, there was never even a moment where Lissa could have been anything but just Lissa. But a Princess? Azrynne was bemused. Perhaps now she could understand Frederick's brash behaviour, but she wondered for a moment just what she had excused it for beforehand. Was he just a protective uncle? A close family friend? It mattered not now, for whatever views she held of him before all but shattered and replaced themselves with the image of a grand knight, ever loyal and dedicated to protecting his liege. All at once the pieces fell into place, and when she met Chrom's confused face, he too realized they had forgotten to share with her a key detail.

"You…thought I was just a soldier?" Chrom asked, and Azrynne crooked her back into a hasty and low bow.

"I've been _terrible_!" she gasped, and everyone else turned to stare, "I've spoken so rashly to you!" her hands awkwardly clasped in front of her head as she bowed, and Chrom stood awkwardly before her, "You're the Prince of this realm! And Princess Lissa! Your graces, please pardon my horrendous behaviour these past days! How could I treat royalty with such disgrace?"

"You remember the Prince's name but not this simple fact?" Frederick said with a raised eyebrow.

"I…" Azrynne could barely even explain the bemusement she felt before Chrom's strong hand patted her back, a bellowing laugh erupting from his lungs.

"I've never been one for formalities," he said as his laughter trailed away, "Please, don't think me a different man from the one you've known this past week."

With a meek and absent nod, Azrynne smiled nervously. She heard a few chuckles of laughter from Lissa and Kellam, and noticed looks of confusion or outright disbelief on others. Sully shook her head and walked away alongside Frederick's horse, soon joined by the rest of them as they resumed their journey to the Capitol with admittedly more exuberance than before. Small chatter once again began to clatter among the group. Lissa jumped off from behind Frederick and walked alongside Chrom and Azrynne, a smile on her face.

"How could you not know I was a Princess?" she asked with an exasperated voice, to which Azrynne simply shrugged, "Don't tell me all those hours of etiquette classes were for naught!"

Azrynne smiled, and she chattered meekly with the siblings for a while more as they came ever closer to the city. She sputtered and stumbled over her words often, not sure how to speak or act around them now, but with encouragement from both did she soon learn to place their royal lineage neatly in a box at the back of her mind, soon regaining the same level of casualty she held with them the days before – and they appreciated it, to a larger extent than she realised now but would one day come to understand.

It was when the bustling of the outer city was in sight did they stop again as group, as a patrol of six horses rode towards them bearing the sigils of both the Shepherds and Ylisse. Azrynne stepped around them, peaking over Kellam's armoured shoulder to gain a glimpse before she was quickly grabbed and pulled back. She saw Frederick quickly ride to hide her and, confused as ever, she felt Chrom push against her shoulders so she turned to look at him. Before she could even ask, his hands slipped to the collar of her cloak and he unbuttoned the seal before quickly sliding the cloak above and behind her shoulders. Azrynne felt a dash of red spring to her cheeks, and while she would have wanted to slap him, it was the sight of Lissa bustling around her with her cloak in hand that made her restrain her palm.

"Do not show your hand." He said simply, his fingers brushing her own. Azrynne nodded with understanding. Chrom quickly removed his gloves and shoved them into her palms as Lissa haphazardly stuffed her cloak into a satchel hanging from Frederick's horse. At least Frederick had the decency as a knight to look away as the siblings stripped her down. Underneath her cloak, Azrynne wore only a pale mauve singlet with thin black straps, tucked neatly into leather belts that also held up large pants of a similar colour. Her pants would have been unwieldy if not for her boots, which tightened around her thighs and secured her bottoms. Underneath the belt, Azrynne wore a black, skirt like fabric around her hips, and secured to one of her belts was her sword and tome, the latter of which was strapped behind her in a belted satchel secured around her waist.

Lissa patted her down and neatened her shirt just as Frederick nudged his steed away from her, and she resumed her position just behind Kellam as she adjusted Chrom's gloves onto her hands. Atop the six horses were mostly armoured men who bore upon their chest plates the same sigil that Chrom had on his upper arm. None of them looked particularly threatening or outlandish, except for a single knight who rode shirtless towards them, unkempt blonde hair tied back with what seemed to be a headband, and chains hanging off of a metal collar he wore as armour. He looked almost like a ruffian or bandit among the five other knights, who shined in white and blue armour, some with gold. Strapped to an arm was a leather piece of armour, and with a loud and boisterous voice he shouted a greeting to the group and raised his axe well above his head. If not for the fact that none of their group save Lilya and Virion flinched, Azrynne would have mistaken his greeting for a declaration of battle. She could hear his voice clearly even from so far away.

"The Prince returns!" the man yelled, and Chrom laughed as he approached them.

The patrol stopped just shy a few yards from them, and the blonde man dismounted. He gestured to a golden knight and ordered, "Go back to the castle and tell those geezers to shut up already", then to the rest of them, "And you lot can go ahead with the patrol". The group dispersed at his orders, and he approached Chrom with a raised arm.

"What did Teach say? He said he _knew _you'd be back on time. Someone owes me 30 gold cobras!" the man shouted as he hugged Chrom roughly. He patted him on the back three times too sharp, and Chrom seemed to buckle at his strength, but laughed all the same.

"It's good to see you too, Vaike. What poor soul did you swindle this time?" Chrom asked the man.

"Ricken never learns." Vaike said with a smirk, and from beside her Lissa gasped and squeaked, "Stop taking Ricken's allowances!"

"The boy's old enough to make his own decisions." Vaike said with a shrug, then greeted the rest of the group with as much vigour as he did with Chrom.

"Always a pleasure." Kellam said nervously when Vaike punched his chest plate, and Stahl avoided contact with him all together, waving from afar before he gave up and greeted Sully. It was as if Azrynne was watching rough siblings playing in the dirt, for Sully greeted Vaike with the same attitude he greeted her. She grinned and took him in a headlock, messing his hair and laughing all the same as he attempted to break free. Frederick simply sighed and nodded when Vaike waved at him from Sully's grip.

"And who are these folks you picked up?" Vaike asked once he freed himself from Sully. Lilya bowed from her Pegasus and introduced herself, and Vaike shook her hand with enough vigour that she had to grip to her steed's mane just to keep atop it. Virion was less than impressed from the rather lacklustre greeting, and attempted to fix his attire after Vaike had so violently pat his back. It was then that he turned his attention to Azrynne, and she smiled meekly.

"I'm Azrynne. It's a pleasure to meet you Vaike." She extended her hand, and Vaike gripped it tightly and shook.

"All the same on this end Azrynne! So you're from Baiyon too, eh?" he asked.

"Oh…no, not quite." Azrynne said, and Vaike cocked his head to the side as he tucked his arms against his chest.

"Oh yeah? From Southtown, are ya? You don't look it!" He said, and Azrynne smiled nervously.

"I…suppose not?" she said as she looked curiously towards Chrom, who approached them and directed Vaike's attention to himself.

"Azrynne hurt herself outside Southtown," he explained, "her memory is a bit fuzzy because of that."

Vaike's expression turned sour.

"Bandits?" he asked her, and without thinking she simply nodded.

"I believe so." She said, and Vaike swore.

"Probably those damn Plegians," he hissed, "coming into _our_ homes, raiding _our_ villages and killing _our_ men! Bloody cowards, the lot of them. Unfortunate you had a sour run in…I hope someone kills those poor bastards before they get another one of our people. What brings you to the Capitol though?"

"I…couldn't find my family in Southtown," Azrynne bluffed, "I was going to search for them at the Capitol, and if that fails…"

"Then she can find a home with us." Chrom finished for her. Vaike grinned and pat Azrynne against her shoulder.

"And you'll love it here!" he shouted, "Haven't been doing so bad myself since this little chicken here picked me off the streets." He gestured to Lissa, who whined, 'Who are you calling a chicken?' Vaike laughed at her and brushed her off, returning to his mount.

"Well come on then, light's not gonna last forever and I sure as hell wanna be by a fire and not out here when night hits." He turned his horse and started towards the Capitol, and the others trotted behind him. Chrom himself walked beside Vaike, and they spoke while they walked.

"I never knew you were quite one to do patrols, Vaike." Chrom said.

"Someone's gotta up and volunteer, especially after all the shit that went down last night." Vaike said grimly. The atmosphere around them dropped with his words, and no one spoke for the moment before Chrom continued.

"Then you saw them too." He said, and Vaike scoffed.

"Who didn't? They came from the east. Farms took the most damage, which is good. Or not, depends how you want to look at it. The lower districts got swarmed. We had to evacuate the people in the slums into the central district just so we could get the soldiers in through the eastern gate. Not many of them made it further though; the river stopped most of them. Had a handful in the middle class districts, but only one made it to the Castle. Phila took the bastard down herself. Said it was roaming the halls outside of western wing."

Lissa gasped and said, "And Emm? How did they even get past the inner walls? Or even the outer walls?"

"She's fine, don't worry your little head Princess. Phila knows how to do her job. And we don't know. The council is ordering a full crack down on all patrols to find any holes around the city." Vaike said.

From atop his horse, Frederick grimaced and said, "I should have been in the Capitol."

"Don't worry, Frederick," Chrom said calmly, "Emmeryn is safe, and Phila is with her." The group was silenced once more, but only for a few shy minutes, as soon they arrived in the outskirts of Ylisstol, her beauty and volume drowning all thought of black demons away.

If Southtown was a rose, then Ylisstol was a birch tree, her sheer size towering above Azrynne in ways she couldn't comprehend. Even the outer walls were massive, with a few bustling market stalls and stray farm homes littering the outside of the walls. After a quick exchange with the guards at the gate, they were greeted into the city, and Azrynne felt lost beyond all words.

At first, they walked through the lower class districts, and people from every house clamoured to their windows and doors to greet Prince Chrom and Princess Lissa as they returned home. While they had looked common before, they were now vastly different, smiles of reverence and kindness beaming as they waved and strode through roads and homes, wading from the lower districts to the market district. Azrynne found herself smiling at the sheer amount of life which the city displayed. Even as the sun was setting, the markets were as loud and busy as they would have been hours ago, and the group had to dismount and carefully squeeze their way through villagers and salesmen just to get out of the district. Azrynne smiled at passing villagers and waved to the busy salesmen who often gestured her towards their stalls. She exchanged laughs and pleasant conversation with Stahl, who had helped her wade through the thrall of mothers and children and men, and teased him when they passed street side food vendors.

It took them a good hour to make their way across the districts and towards the centre of Ylisstol, just in front of the inner gates. By then, Azrynne was sore and tired, and longed for food almost as much as Stahl did. The throngs of people dwindled down to nothing as they got closer, and market stalls soon turned into inns and shops and homes as they made their way out of the middle class districts.

Ylisstol had a simple layout; she was a city the shape of a half moon, and by Stahl's descriptions consisted of six major districts. Wedged between the outer and inner walls were the lower districts, the middle districts, the eastern and western slums, and the market district. The lower district stretched from the south-west to the east. Separating the lower and middle districts was a thin strip of markets that spread from west to east, touching both the class districts and even the slums. The eastern and western slums were small in size, something which Stahl said the city was quite proud of as the Exalt's council worked tirelessly to remove them completely. They were wedged tightly between the outer walls, the lower districts, and the Auteaul River. Wedged between the market district and the inner walls was the middle district, and just beyond was the Auteaul River in all her beauty. There was one main bridge connecting the middle and high class districts, one that span a kilometre in size whose access was restricted by the inner gates. Just beyond the bridge though, hidden deep within the upper districts, was Ylisstol's castle palace in all her glory, tucked between wealth and mountains. There was nothing else but towering mountains beyond the upper districts.

When they had reached the main bridge, night had fallen, and the inner city gates had already closed. With little trouble though did Frederick speak to the guards and have it opened, and the group continued on towards the castle. The high class district was all but silent, towering mansions of gold and blue nestled away between the mountains and the river. Azrynne was amazed by Ylisstol's beauty, and the Auteaul River enchanted her as it shone as bright as the starlit sky. She made a note in the back of her mind to request for Stahl, or perhaps Kellam or even Chrom or Lissa to take her here again during daylight.

Azrynne wasn't sure what she was expecting Ylisstol's castle palace to look like, but whatever expectations she held were destroyed tremendously by the thing itself. A final set of walls separated them from the castle, though these were not nearly as towering as the ones which surrounded the city. Still, the sight was one to behold, and as they waited for Chrom to speak with the guards and open the gates, Azrynne marvelled at the sights she had seen. Stahl poked her in the side, and she flinched from her dazed stupor.

"Quite a sight isn't she?" he said, and Azrynne nodded.

"Ylisstol is beautiful," Azrynne said, "You must show me more of her beauties one day."

Stahl smiled and nodded, "Of course! I wish I could be you right now, just for a moment. I grew up in the middle districts so I've always kind of been used to it. But when you really think about it, the city's really beautiful. People say Ylisstol is the most beautiful Capitol in the continent."

"Truly?" Azrynne asked.

"Yeah! They say that while Arherm is the grandest and Vertomin is the boldest, Ylisstol is the only city that could be called the most beautiful." Stahl said.

"Excuse me," Azrynne said, cocking her head to the side, "Arherm and Vertomin?"

"Oh, sorry. Arherm is Regna Ferox's Capitol, and Vertomin is Plegia's. Arherm is probably twice the size of Ylisstol, but her buildings are more stretched out. Verotmin supposedly has the most outrageous laws. At least, that's what I've heard. I've never been to either." Stahl told her.

"How truly fascinating," Azrynne whispered under her breath as she stared at the golden etchings on the castle walls, "I have much to learn…please tell me there is some sort of library to behold here."

"You sound just like Miriel," Stahl said with a chuckle, "the two main libraries are in the castle and in the Shepherd's base, but you can find smaller ones in almost every district."

The castle gates opened as he finished, and the group hushed their conversations as they walked into the castle courtyard. The bushes were tall and finely kept, red roses blossoming from every branch. The courtyard was dimly lit, and everyone followed Chrom as they waded through cobble pavements and roses and towards the castle halls itself. Frederick had retired his mount when they had entered the castle gates, and with encourage, so too did Lilya.

Their footsteps echoed as they trotted through the main hall, towards what Azrynne assumed was the throne room. By the layout of the castle; a long, tall block of three stories with adjoining hallways towards a western and eastern wing, she assumed the throne room would be the back and centre of the bottom floor, the direction they were headed. And she was correct; for not a minute later did they arrive at a set of extraordinarily large doors, and behind them she saw a beautiful young woman seated atop a red throne, opposite the room from them. Beside her stood a tall and thin woman, and dotting the room every few metres were stoic guards, still and poised.

Chrom, Lissa and Frederick walked forward towards the Exalt, stopping halfway across the room. She sprung from her throne and met them there; joy in both her face and her voice. Azrynne followed the remaining group, stopping just behind Chrom. Following everyone else's lead, she knelt between Stahl and Lilya.

"Chrom! Lissa! Oh, how wonderful it is to have to back home. And Frederick, too. I've missed you so." The Exalt said. Her voice was soft and fair. The siblings embraced, at Frederick crossed her arm across his heart and bowed to her when spoken to. She reached up and cupped his cheek, and on her tip toes she kissed his other. She then turned and addressed the rest of the group.

"And to you, my beloved Shepherds. Thank you for your service and protection of my family." She said, and Azrynne stood with the others once addressed. She smiled nervously at the Exalt when their eyes caught.

Emmeryn was a beautiful woman. She was tall, sleek and thin, the same height as her blue headed brother. Her face was thin and smooth, a soft and gentle jawline that curved around her face. Her eyebrows were light, low and gentle, and she held an aura of dignity and elegance that Azrynne found enchanting. She had the same golden hair that Lissa had, though hers was longer and curled into smooth circlets. Unlike either sibling though, Emmeryn's eyes were a bright and striking shade of emerald. Azrynne noticed that on her forehead, the Exalt had a light mark tattooed against it – the mark of Ylisse, she would quickly come to recognise. Emmeryn's crown was one that sat behind her head, and poking just underneath the strands of light hair Azrynne saw the gold frame that fastened it to her head. Her robes, which were long and dragged across the floor, were a pastel yellow and green adorning white. She wore several emeralds and gold rings around her fingers, and she look truly as grand and beautiful as her title would have her.

The woman who followed closely behind her stood straight and silent, obviously the Exalt's personal guardian. She had light blue hair, secured in a tight bun, and wore light clothing that indicated she was a Pegasus rider. She had fierce, sharp eyebrows, and pointed nose and cold, icy blue eyes. Azrynne could tell by her armour and stance that she was a powerful woman of high status, her blue and bronze robes and armour as intricately made as the Exalt's. She held an air of pride and valour to her, one which Azrynne felt was quite similar to Frederick's.

"How fared you on your journey, Chrom?" Emmeryn said, turning her attention back to her brother.

"T'was well, sister. There should be no problems with bandits along the southern border for a while now at least." He said.

"Good, excellent. And how fare our people?" she asked.

"They're well," Chrom said, "as they always have been under your rule, Emmeryn. There are some troubles though."

"Please, do tell." The Exalt urged.

"Southtown was attacked by bandits; however it was obvious they were no mere outlandish brigands. Most, if not all had thick Plegian accents and my men found trinkets and sigils upon them that would seal the evidence. We need to secure our borders. Plegia becomes restless."

"Please forgive me, milord." The sharp guardian behind Emmeryn said as she bowed, "My guard should have intercepted them. I will be sure to advise stronger vigilance among my knights."

"There is nothing to forgive, Phila," Chrom said, "Your place is with the Exalt, and your knights cannot possibility spread across every acre of land we have, day and night. Emmeryn, I would have our Shepherds disperse more ground patrols across the borders, to assist the Pegasi Guard."

"Carry out your orders then brother, for the council awaits us tonight when you are ready. We have much to discuss." Emmeryn said to Chrom. She then turned her attention to the group behind him.

"And your soldiers, Chrom? What brings them to the castle tonight?" Emmeryn asked. Chrom turned and gestured to Lilya.

"Emmeryn, Phila, this is Lilya. She is the Pegasus recruit from Baiyon Garden." Chrom said. Lilya curtsied when introduced.

"Ah, I see," said Phila, and she walked over to Lilya to examine her, "I've heard many things of you, dear. Ylisse truly blossoms to have such a talented rider in her Pegasi Guard. Cordelia."

Phila waved to one of the guards who stood silently in the throne room. At her command, a young woman clad in Pegasus knight armour approached. She had long, burning red hair that reached her mid back, and walked with an air of confidence and skill. She bowed in front of Phila, then saluted, awaiting her commands.

"Please take Lilya to the Guard's quarters. Make sure she is comfortable. You're to be her guide while she adjusts to the castle." Phila said, and Cordelia replied with a curt 'yes ma'am!' before heading out of the throne room with Lilya.

"And the rest of your squad, Chrom?" Emmeryn asked, and Chrom nodded.

"During our return to the Capitol, we encountered the same deathly creatures that swarmed the lower districts of the city. Without the help of my soldiers, I'm unsure what would have happened to us that night. These soldiers are to be commended." Chrom said. Emmeryn smiled gently.

"I see…these creatures have been sighted all across Ylisse," Emmeryn informed them, "their strength is extraordinary, and their origins and intentions are unknown. Whatever aid you provided my brother is beyond immeasurable. I thank you, my knights. Your service has been noted." Chrom nodded, then smiled at his soldiers.

"You're dismissed, then." he said to them, but Frederick interrupted him.

"Wait. Before you leave, I have another matter to discuss." He said. The group exchanged glances, but did as commanded.

"I wish to speak of Azrynne." Frederick said calmly. Azrynne closed her eyes and sighed silently. What had she done now?

"Is…something the matter?" Azrynne asked nervously.

"Forgive my intrusion, milady, your graces, but I must speak. I believe it the utmost importance that you know exactly of Azrynne's origins." Frederick said. At his words, Azrynne felt a pit on her gut expand. A type of emptiness filled her, and Azrynne felt fear. Was this a persecution? Azrynne took a deep breath to calm herself as she collected her thoughts. She silenced herself, letting the conversation unfold.

"Is that so, Frederick?" Emmeryn asked, "Chrom, Lissa, why aren't you the ones to speak of this?"

"I thought to speak to you of it in private." Chrom said, with a wayward glance towards Frederick, then their group.

"Beg pardon, milord, but I believe the matter is not one to sleep on," Frederick said, then lowered his voice so that the guards surrounding them could not hear, "We found Azrynne in the fields outside Southtown. She was gravely injured, and when revived, claims to have lost her memory."

"I _have_ lost my memories." Azrynne interjected, only to hush herself in embarrassment for speaking out of turn.

"I respect your claim, milady, but it is just that; a claim. You have truly been a positive asset on our journey home to the Capitol, but as the Exalt's guardian I cannot rule out the fact that there is possibility that you are not who you claim to be. I cannot trust someone who could be some wayward brigand, or more likely, a Plegian spy."

"Frederick!" Lissa yelped in surprise. Phila stiffened, then slowly walked forward to examine Azrynne. The group stepped away from Azrynne to give Phila room, and she felt a knot form in her stomach. Azrynne stood still and silent, nervously waiting as she was examined. Glancing at the group, she saw neutral faces from all but Vaike, whose curiosity peaked in a strange way. Brows furrowed, Vaike stared at her with a piercing gaze and grimace. She saw his fists clench and unclench, again and again and again.

"What evidence do you have for such a bold claim, Frederick?" Emmeryn asked calmly, not moving from her position.

"Azrynne, please remove your gloves." Frederick asked her.

Azrynne stared nervously at Frederick. His chocolate brown eyes were near emotionless. She did not exactly see any kind of vindication in his eyes, or anything malicious at all. Azrynne understood. He was simply a knight doing his duty, though Azrynne loathed her situation – and by extension, she loathed him too, even just for a moment. She glanced quickly to Chrom, and his blue eyes held a kind of sympathy. It was as if he was apologising for the intrusion, but Azrynne would have none of that. She would do whatever she could to prove her innocence. With a quick breath, Azrynne removed her gloves and returned them to Chrom. She held her right hand towards them.

Behind her, Azrynne heard a curse of disbelief. She turned to see Vaike, face red hot and angry, muscles flexing and ready to pounce. His reaction was instantaneous. While Azrynne did not fear Emmeryn's judgement, she did however fear Vaike, whose sudden bold and boisterous behaviour became a thing of absolute fear. She understood then Chrom's nervous glance at them before. Azrynne nervously stepped back as Vaike lunged forward.

"_You let a Plegian __**whore**__ into our city?_" he screamed. Azrynne felt a sickening churning of shock bolt through her body as she stepped away from him, but he barely had the strength to reach her. Reaction also instant, Frederick pounced forward and met with Vaike, locking his arms around the blonde man's chest. Behind him, Stahl too stepped forward and grabbed Vaike's metal collar, pulling him back. Azrynne saw a blur from beside her and Chrom quickly stepped in front of her, grabbing her arm and shielding her from the blonde man.

"Vaike!" he yelled, but the man was something different now. His eyes glowed with a brilliant rage, prejudice spewing from his mouth. Azrynne was sure he would have killed her if Frederick and Stahl hadn't intercepted. Lissa squealed and rushed forward, her small fingers grasping at his shoulder.

"Princess, stop!" Frederick yelled, but she ignored him.

"Vaike! Vaike stop it!" Lissa screamed and she scratched at Vaike, tears dripping from her eyes. Vaike glanced at her, fury still streaming through his veins, but faltered for just a moment. It was then that Emmeryn stood forward, hands open and face stern.

"_Enough_." She said, and her simple command was enough to break apart the men. Beside her, Phila's hand hovered tentatively over the blade at her side. Stahl and Lissa withdrew, and Frederick pushed Vaike away from them.

"You will be silent." Frederick commanded as he gestured to one of the stoic knights to subdue him, and with a nod from Emmeryn, Vaike scoffed and fumed from his position away from the group, and deathly glare locked onto Azrynne. Azrynne looked away from him, fearful. She wondered what terrors plagued him so that the mere suggestion of Plegian roots would cause such a change in disposition.

Phila's eyes narrowed and she immediately glowered at Azrynne, her judgement already made. Regardless though, her hand slipped away from her hilt, and she clasped them again behind her back. Emmeryn no physical reaction, her face neutral. She approached Azrynne and reached for her hand. While both Frederick and Phila stuttered forward to stop her, a simple raised hand was enough to quiet them.

"Azrynne, I believe it is?" The Exalt said. Azrynne bowed and nodded curtly.

"Yes, your grace." She said.

"May I?" Emmeryn said, pointing at her hand, and Azrynne nodded nervously and gave the Exalt her hand.

Emmeryn clasped Azrynne's hand in both her own and examined the Mark of Grima. Her hands were gentle and soft, and there was no malice in her inspection. Azrynne felt embarrassed, her hands so calloused and shaky compared to the Exalt's. After a moment passed, Emmeryn let go of her hand and looked Azrynne in the eye.

"Do you understand what this mark means, Azrynne?" she said. Azrynne nodded.

"I believe so, your grace." Azrynne said.

"Chrom," Emmeryn said, turning to her brother, "You understand what it means also, do you not?"

"Of course, sister!" Chrom said, surprised.

"Then why have you allowed Azrynne into our home, Chrom?" Emmeryn asked.

"Sister, I know these circumstances lend to a bitter end, but I have reason for my actions. I know that Azrynne speaks the truth, Emmeryn. She has lost her memory. Whether she is Plegian or not, Azrynne is not a spy. She is a lost woman who we found dying in a field. She doesn't have a family, she doesn't have a home. She only has herself, and what kind of way is that to live? Azrynne saved me from harm in Southtown. She assisted in our fight with Plegian brigands. She trekked across the country with us. She slept alongside us, by the fire, each night for a week. And when those demons came, she fought for us as well, Emmeryn. If it wasn't for her, some of us could be dead."

"Like me." Stahl said nervously. From behind her, Stahl stepped forward nervously in Azrynne's defence. He almost look embarrassed or even ashamed for speaking out of turn, but despite the falter in his voice he cleared his throat and stared at Azrynne as he spoke. Her golden eyes stared back.

"The ground tore apart beneath me. Azrynne pulled me up from the abyss. If she wasn't there…I would have fallen. I would have died." Stahl said softly, nervously looking from Emmeryn to Phila to Emmeryn once again, "I'm just a soldier! If Azrynne _was_ a spy, she wouldn't be dumb enough to try and assassinate Chrom with so many soldiers around…but there's no point in saving _me_. No Plegian spy would save someone who's going to get in the way of their job. For what it's worth, I trust Azrynne."

"And I trust her too," said Kellam as he bowed, "for what it's worth, your grace. I don't know how to explain it. But I spent hours talking to Azrynne. I just know she's not a threat. She has nightmares, like you and me…nightmares about not knowing. I just know that the things she told me were real."

"Bullshit!" Vaike yelled from where he stood, "Have you all lost your mind?"

"Silence, Sir Vaike. I'll not stand for such hard language in my halls. I fear your prejudice clouds your judgement – we've yet to even come to a conclusion." Emmeryn said, and Vaike hushed himself in embarrassment. Chrom spoke once again.

"Sister, I only follow your example. We can't judge people for the actions of their forefathers, can we? Let alone when we have no definitive proof! Who are we to take away someone's second chance when they aren't responsible for the mistakes we made with our own?"

Azrynne remained silent as the others. The Exalt pondered Chrom's words, eyes closed with thought. Nervously, Azrynne caught Chrom's eyes again, and his blue eyes glowed at her with warmth and kindness. She smiled nervously, and he returned it. He mouthed something to her, but Azrynne couldn't read his lips. She stared at them though, repeating the shape over and over, wondering. It was then that Emmeryn spoke, but only softly.

"You have my brother's trust," Emmeryn said, "And as such, so too do you have mine."

Phila and Frederick twitched in protest, but said nothing. Frederick bowed his head in acknowledgement. From his corner, Vaike scoffed in disbelief, teeth bared towards Azrynne. She felt fearful. Closing her eyes, Azrynne thought to herself for a moment. She wondered what history these two countries held that such visceral reactions were even in the realm of probability. Azrynne felt a tug of helplessness in her stomach, then sighed. She made her decision weakly.

"Your grace," Azrynne interrupted nervously, "You are most kind, and so too is your brother…but it is obvious there is much tension in my presence. Please, I will leave your country if you find it the best course of action."

"Azrynne, Ylisse can be your home in the same way it is mine." Chrom said, stepping forward.

"I don't even know if my old home is looking for me! What if this isn't my place? I don't want to cause trouble," Azrynne said simply, "You're kind Chrom, but I feel like the rest of your country may not be as heartfelt as you."

"Azrynne," Emmeryn said calmly, and Azrynne turned her attention to her, "Do you wish to leave our country? Or do you wish to stay?"

Azrynne pressed her lips together and looked nervously at her feet. She played with her fingers absently, then spoke softly.

"Your grace, I only wish to know who I am." She said. Emmeryn nodded.

"I see. Azrynne, my family trusts you. If it is your wish to stay, then I shall allow it. While you are not a citizen, and nor are you a Shepherd, here you are our guest, and you can remain as such until you regain your memories. To ease your mind, I ask that you conceal your mark. Gloves will do fine. As for the rest of you," Emmeryn raised her voice so the whole room could hear, "What secrets shared tonight in this room will remain as such; a secret."

Vaike swore in disbelief, "You're letting some Plegian scum parade around our city like she's one of us? And you want us to lie about it?"

"Enough, Sir Vaike, I tire of your harsh words," The Exalt said, "For now, Azrynne, I will allow you to live in my city. My brother wishes for you to join his Shepherds, though. I'm unsure if I can allow that. Until such a time where my people can trust you for who you are in the way that my brother does, I'm afraid I cannot allow this request fulfilled. You are a guest in Ylisstol, and also among the Shepherds, though.

Azrynne, if Chrom has your trust, then so too do you have mine. But keep in mind, that if that trust is broken, then so _too_ is mine. I will keep an eye on you. My brother is right. I can't judge you based on a guess of who you could have been. But I can judge you on who you will become. If you are true to your words and you cannot regain what has been lost, then within time you can call Ylisstol home, as I do. If you betray our trust though, I'm afraid appropriate actions will be made. Please keep this in mind."

"You would truly give me such an opportunity?" Azrynne asked in disbelief. Emmeryn simply nodded. Touched, Azrynne knelt before her and touched her head to the ground in a bow.

"Thank you, your grace. I will not betray your kindness." Azrynne said.

"I expect all of you to co-operate," Emmeryn said once again, thus sealing the secret of Azrynne's origins to the people in the room, "Phila, please also pass word of this to your new knight." Phila bowed at her command.

"Excellent. Now, Chrom, the council awaits us. We have much to discuss." Emmeryn said. Chrom nodded and turned to his soldiers.

"You're all dismissed. Sully, I want you to be Virion's guide – please don't make that face. Kellam, you can arrange his quarters. Stahl, please guide Azrynne. Lissa, can you go to the outpost tonight? I want you to help Azrynne settle into her new quarters."

Everyone nodded when addressed, and Lissa skipped to Azrynne's side, linking her arm around her own. Chrom turned to Vaike before he left.

"And Vaike. Please, have patience." He said, and the blonde man simply scoffed and walked away, leaving the throne room well ahead of the others at his own pace. Chrom sighed and glanced at Azrynne, and quickly approached her before she left.

"This isn't your fault, Azrynne," he whispered in her ear, "But I do believe you can find a home here."

Azrynne blinked. _This isn't your fault, Azrynne. _Those were the words he had mouthed to her. She nodded in understanding, mouthing the words to herself. She slowly lifted her gaze, and his blue eyes met her golden ones once more. Warmth radiated from them. Azrynne couldn't help but feel that Chrom's words were genuine, as if they were already true. Somehow most of his words had the same air to them. He smiled at her, touching her hand with a soft reassurance before joining his sister, Phila and Frederick for his council meeting. Azrynne stared at him for a moment, her gaze lingering before Lissa skipped towards the main doors, tugging her arm and attention away from him.

Azrynne smiled to herself as she walked with the others. Perhaps she could find a home here after all. With warm thoughts of hope in mind, Azrynne could hardly remember the trek to the Shepherd outpost to the east of the city. The group waited at the high district docks for a boat to take them up the Auteaul River to the base, but Azrynne focused mostly on the sparkles of stars and water. She spoke absently to Stahl and Lissa, and wondered where the time had gone when she found herself at a dinner table, eating a proper meal for the first time in a week.

That night, after she had haphazardly tried to sneak into her room only to awaken her three roommates and have Lissa quickly apologize and explain, Azrynne found herself tucked into bed and thinking of Chrom. She thought of his kindness and reverence, how his words were as soft as his eyes. She thought of how he had so selflessly fought to find her a home, without even knowing if she had already had one. For a while, Azrynne wondered if she even wanted to remember anymore. What if she was Plegian? What if she wasn't? What if her place wasn't here? Azrynne didn't want to think about it. For the first time, Azrynne hoped that her memories would stall for just a moment longer. She wondered what lay ahead of her, here, in the Capitol.

Closing her eyes, Azrynne faded to sleep. In her dreams, she saw a blurred and blue man. She heard a laughing man fading away in the distance, and followed his voice. Walking across marbled floors, Azrynne could hear the heavy clank of her metal boots against the floor. She turned corners and walked through hallways, and sometimes she would hear men screaming; sometimes women too. Whispers clouded her thoughts, and for a moment she saw a girl running away from her, long hair clouding her features as blue and gold butterfly wings sprouted from her shoulders. When Azrynne followed though, she saw no girl, no man, heard no laughter. In the centre of a now endlessly dark room, Azrynne stood alone for what seemed like an eternity. No matter how far she walked, there were no edges to her black room; no walls, no rooftop, and soon, she noticed, no floor either. Azrynne screamed and ran, shouting for someone to hear her – and after a millennium of silence, a boy yelled back. She turned immediately, and while naught but darkness was there a moment ago, there now stood a young boy. Eyes gold and hair a fiery auburn, the boy looked at her and cried – and when Azrynne reached for him, he morphed into something different. Something dark. Something black with rotted eyes and bleeding organs.

Azrynne gasped, and the demon lunged for her.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

I apologize to everyone for the huge wait for this chapter – in addition to experiencing some writer's block, after finishing 11 pages of this chapter when inspiration finally struck…my laptop fell out of my bag and my hard disk drive shattered. So alas, I wrote it all again, but with more detail since I know knew which direction I wanted these chapters to go. Originally this chapter was split into three sections, but I have decided to post only a single section at a time – why? Because each section is from a different character's POV. How do you, readers, feel about this? This chapter is half the size of the last, but that's because I originally intended for it to be made of three parts! I thought that switching between POVs mid chapter would be confusing though, so decided to split them. How would you feel in future if chapters were longer (as I intend them to be), but split into several POVs? In the end you get the same content, but it's a matter of short chapters with more frequent updates, or longer chapters with updates spread farther apart. Opinions?

Before finishing I would like to re-iterate that there is a tumblr information / background blog for this story! I recommend you check it out for side details and goodies – for example, I uploaded a sketch of Ylisstol's district layout on it a few days ago. The tumblr is called **histories-and-time**, find it by typing histories-and-time dot tumblr dot com into the url bar (substituting dot with a period.)

I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter and hope you enjoy!


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